Cast Iron Skillets, Part II

My mother recently commented that she doesn't cook any more. I seized the opportunity to tell her I wanted her cast iron skillets when she didn't need them any more. Lo and behold, on my last visit, she gave me three graduated skillets. I used the largest one to make pineapple upside down cake when she was sick this winter. When she gave me the skillets, she told me that my brother loved pineapple upside down cakes and that she hadn't had one since she'd made one for him before he died nine years ago, until I made that one for her. I didn't know that, and surely wouldn't have made one when she was so sick, if I had. Maybe it was buried in my subconcious.

I can't make peanut butter cookies to this day. I went to see my brother in the hospital when he was taking megadoses of chemo. He had just gotten some anti-nausea medication that must have spurred his appetite. I had baked some peanut butter cookies (I'm ashamed to say from a mix) and took them to him, still warm. I'll never forget how much he enjoyed them. He ate almost all of them and told me how good they were. How many times have I tried to make something really special for my family only to be thanked by "It's ok."? And I threw these together from a mix and they really hit the spot. Of all the sadness I feel for him, I am thankful for the peanut butter cookies. As I'm sure my mother is for the pineapple upside down cake. It was a mix, too.

So for all the food snobs out there, it really is the thought that counts. And how hungry we are. And how thankful we are to have our appetite back. God forbid we should ever get so sophisticated that we can't enjoy the love behind the food.