The clearest memory I have is that of a young boy, perhaps 5 or 6 years of age.
It was a Sunday morning. I recall waking up to an amazing fragrant delight.
Just down the hallway, my Mom, like an alchemist, would take simple ingredients and transform them into the most pleasant smelling and wonderful tasting dishes.
It was her magic touch from the love in her heart that changed the very state of those simple ingredients into something so fantastic, so motherly. I was driven to learn. Every Sunday morning going forward, I would wake up early eagerly waiting in the kitchen to watch and learn her secrets. I needed to understand. I had to know. There was a bond that grew between us both that I felt divinely transcended existence.
She wasn't able to show me everything, but she did teach me the most important thing - the love of good food and a passion for perfection. She shared her magic.