My mother donned brown polyester pants and a gold smock to work as a hotel maid scrubbing floors and toilets. But when she stepped into her own kitchen, she wore a frilly apron, played Vivaldi on the stereo, and with a flip of her spatula and more than a pat or two of butter, became the queen of her realm. THE KITCHEN QUEEN OF FISH POT ROAD celebrates my memories of Mom’s Western Pennsylvania kitchen. She proved every day that living a good life has more to do with attitude than with money.
This blog will offer recipes and stories about growing up in Western Pennsylvania and, of course, reflections about my mother and the food of my memory. In the meantime, here’s a few of the kitchen rules my mother often spouted:
- Bigger is always better. (Bigger slices, thicker pie, more of everything.)
- Never skimp on butter.
- Icing is for sissies. Powdered sugar is prettier, takes less time, and isn’t as sweet.
- A little bit of hard work never killed anybody.Put a little music on and scrub your kitchen floor.
- You can use a cast-iron skillet for almost everything.
- Being poor is no excuse for crime, for a lack of cleanliness, lack of self-respect, or eating junk food like potato chips or sugary cereals.
- Low-fat, my ass.
- If you use your hands for mixing, it always tastes better.
- Just fry it and don’t worry about your arteries, it’s impolite to mention arteries at the dinner table, anyway.
I’m betting that we all know a Kitchen Queen of Fish Pot Road. Or maybe we each have a little of the Kitchen Queen in us. I know I do. Welcome to my blog. I’d love to hear from you.