When I think of food, I think of love. Not like, my food loves me but I associate food with the feelings of being cared about by someone who loves you; like my mother making me a grilled cheese after school on a cold winter day when I was a small child or how she made me that same favorite grilled cheese when I was overcome with morning sickness when I was pregnant with my first child. There is something comforting and beautiful about a food made with such love and caring as a mother providing food for her child.
I think most people think of food in this way. That’s probably why we have that old saying, “A way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” Maybe there is something to it. Most people celebrate the big occasions in life with food because it’s a way to share a special moment with family and friends, punctuated by the warm, permeating smells of something delicious baking in the oven.
I think I probably learned this as a small child watching my mom cook for my father and the six of us children. Some of my fondest memories as a child are centered on our kitchen table as we all shared a meal. I want that for my children. The meal is about more than just the food, it’s about gathering together and talking about your day. It’s about listening and caring. In a word, it’s about love.
This is why my family has dinner together every night and on weekends, all meals are eaten gathered around our dining table after we spend the prep time in the kitchen together. Those cooking stand at the stove while those not sit at the island, watching and learning. We’ve done this with our girls since they were very small.
They’ve always had an interest in cooking and want to learn the recipes we’ve had handed down from our mothers and grandmothers. I always get a warm fuzzy feeling when they ask, “Mommy, when I grow up, will you teach me how to make your enchiladas/ secret recipe meatloaf/lemon Greek soup?” My standard answer is, “Yes, of course,” then I whisper, “ It’s all on the blog.”
Of course like most kids, they love anything I cook or bake even more so if they have a hand in it and I think it’s important to encourage them to experiment. I want it to be a fun experience not something I take so seriously that I yell at every imperfection. I just breathe and remind myself that there is a special beauty in the imperfections and these precious moments are few and fleeting the older they get. Pretty soon, I am sure they will both be better cooks than I am.
There is one thing that they love to bake together as often as possible, Pillsbury™ Grands! Cinnamon Rolls. Maybe, like my mom’s grilled cheese does for me, it holds some special part in their heart. All I know is that if they see them in the refrigerator, they always get a little sparkle in their eye because they know that we will be together in the kitchen baking them.
There is just something special about biting into that first bite of a warm, gooey cinnamon roll especially when someone you love made it. For Valentine’s Day, I thought a fun way to surprise the girls was with a batch of Pillsbury™ Grands! Cinnamon Rolls. Each bite reminding them of how much their mom loves them. This is so simple but something they will remember forever and might someday do for their own children. It’s quick, it’s easy and what’s more special than waking up to the sweet smell of cinnamon rolls on a cold Midwestern morning?
Disclosure: This post was sponsored by General Mills through their partnership with POPSUGAR Select. While I was compensated to write a post about Pillsbury™ Grands! Cinnamon Rolls, all opinions are my own.
The thing is that if you are lucky enough to survive, you will see that in the grand scheme of your life, a series of small moments are just that. I know when they are compiling, especially on a young mind, they are heavy and all-consuming. But in 20 years, you will barely remember they ever happened.
