Last year when my son was in preschool, his teacher asked him what his Mom's biggest talent was, and his answer was "making blueberry pancakes!" Weekends are the perfect time to enjoy this simple pleasure, so I have tried to have a tradition of making fresh blueberry pancakes on Saturday mornings. Since I like cutting out processed foods, I have a mixture of dry ingredients that I mix together, and when I am ready to make the pancakes, I just add the wet ones, and mix up a batch. They turn out fluffier and tastier than the boxed mixes, and I feel better knowing which ingredients go into them.
This morning, while mixing ingredients, and pouring batter onto sizzling butter,I was processing some things to write about today. Hopefully, it will all come together somehow, without sounding too scattered.
One of the things that is a big challenge for me is finding a name for my business. It doesn't sound like a difficult task, however, names are so important. It is the first impression to my clients, and it has to describe who I am, and what I'm about in just a few words. It seems like every time I think of a brilliant idea, when I google it, someone has already claimed it.
That being said, I am currently a business without a name. Oh well, "Roma non fu fatto in un giorno!" Rome wasn't built in a day.
I believe it is important to put my mission statement out there. Why do I want to start this business? The first reason is because of my passion for food and feeding people. My Grandmother was a very key person in developing my love of cooking. She was Italian, and her kitchen was always full of mouthwatering aromas. She only made a few things, but made them well, and I never grew tired of eating them. To me, memories are built around food. It could be good food, or even mediocre food, but when we think of smells and tastes surrounding what we grew up eating, it always brings up visceral reminders from our pasts.
When I make my grandmother's homemade sauce, it takes me back to when I went to her house after an afternoon playing on the beach. I would be starving from playing in the water under the hot sun, and savored every bite of her spaghetti or lasagna, stuffed mushrooms and fresh salad. After I couldn't eat anymore, she served fruit out of a can, and homemade custard. As far as I know, the canned fruit was the only thing she didn't make. Even though I was more stuffed that one of her mushrooms, to decline eating the rest of my food was simply not done!
I loved my grandmother because she was the type of person that just wanted to make sure everyone was fed, right down to the mailman. She often gave freshly baked biscotti or whatever she had on hand to whoever stopped by. She probably didn't cook because she was passionate about it, rather, she had a husband and three sons. That is what she did in Italy, and it was the tradition she brought to the US when she came. She used food as a way to show people she cared about them.
When my Grandmother passed away, my parent's church prepared a meal at the reception. It was pure comfort food...Ham, scalloped potatoes, rolls, salad and dessert. I remember feeling so loved and cared for. The people who prepared the dinner would not let us as family lift a finger to help out. This blessed me beyond words. When I returned from her funeral, I immediately signed up at our church to help organize memorials so I could do the same for people. I received so much from doing this.
Cooking for people matters to me, because of the way food speaks love into their lives.
Now, my pancakes are complete, and I need to get started with my day. My heart is full knowing my husband and son enjoyed my best talent of making blueberry pancakes! In addition to that, I had an idea for a name and mission statement.
"Home-cooked in the city" Slow food in a fast paced environment.
Just a thought :)