Bound by mixing bowls & recipes: through a holiday memory, one woman discovers that cooking isn't just about food

I don't cook on a regular day, let alone a holiday. As soon as someone even mentions cooking to me, I have a classic, conditioned response involving my eyeballs immediately rolling up into my head. (Pavlov's dogs have nothing on me.) My non-cooking ability is so profound that my friends mock it.

I'm not sure why I'm so kitchen-incompetent since I'm from a long line of women who make Martha Stewart look like an amateur. One day I'm 11 and in the kitchen with my mom while she cooks a Christmas dinner she could sell tickets to. The next, I'm 36 and overworked, living on takeout.

As I spent time thinking about all the Christmas dinners my mom has cooked compared to the, uh, none that I have, it came to me without warning: I can cook. I have cooked. And for a Christmas dinner no less! I made my grandmother's strawberry bread recipe and produced the kind of mouth-watering deliciousness people should write poetry about.

I was in high school, and it was a Christmas like all the others then. My dad walked around the house in his candy cane socks singing carols. And my mom was in the kitchen fixing up a feast fit for 50 kings.

My two grandmothers were there helping, too, just like they always did then. And in between the noises of pots clanging on the stove and pans banging into the oven was the sound I have come to associate so fondly with all of my holiday memories: the constant, almost musical chatter among women packed happily together into a slightly too small kitchen, bumping elbows while still successfully managing to cook 10 things at once.

Of course, I was hanging around too. Even then, I had already begun carefully crafting my life into the no-cook zone I occupy today. As such, my own contributions to these events were usually confined to activities that didn't involve knowing my teaspoon from my tablespoon. I'd organize the relish tray or arrange the rolls on the baking sheet. But for whatever reason that year, I agreed to my grandmother's request to make her strawberry bread.

I know what you're thinking: There's no way that bread came out okay, let alone delicious. Maybe not. Truthfully, I don't really remember. (I know I said it was great earlier, but that was just my ploy to keep you here!) Want to know what I do remember? How I felt like a part of something that day. Not just the chatter--though I was--and not just the tradition of cooking Christmas dinner--though I was a part of that too. More importantly, I felt like a connected part of three generations of women, creating history together by creating a meal together. Bound by blood and bound, in a sense, by something as simple and as complex as mixing bowls and family recipes.

That's the thing about cooking: Sure, eating fuels our bodies and keeps us alive, but to so many people, it's the act, the art of cooking that gives sustenance to the soul. It's family history--a common experience passed down through generations. In a world that moves too fast and spends too much time looking ahead, it anchors us to our past. When we bake bread, we know our grandmothers and their grandmothers before them also baked bread. That's a tradition worth honoring beyond the holiday season.

As for my future in feast preparations, let's be frank: My favorite foods remain the ones someone else cooks for me. But as the holidays come around again, I'm fairly certain I'll try my hand once more at strawberry bread--for my grandmother, whom I dearly miss, and for my mocking friends, who'll shortly be getting free samples.

Now who's panicked?

grandmother's
strawberry bread

Serves 16

2 10-oz, pkg. frozen strawberries, thawed
4 large eggs
1 1/4 cups canola oil
3 cups all-purpose flour
2 cups sugar
1 cup chopped nuts
3 tsp. cinnamon
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt

1. Preheat oven to 350F. Grease and
flour two 9x5-inch loaf pans.

2. Combine strawberries, eggs and oil
in medium bowl.

3. Combine flour, sugar, nuts,
cinnamon, baking soda and salt
in large bowl.

4. Add strawberry mixture to dry
ingredients, and stir until blended.

5. Pour into pans, and bake 1 hour, or
until toothpick inserted into middle
of loaf comes out clean.

PER SERVING: 408 CAL; 6G PROT;
23G TOTAL FAT (2G SAT. FAT);
47G CARB; 53MG CHOL; 241MG SOD;
2G FIBER; 26G SUGARS

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