A Girl and Her Kitchen

The kitchen is my happy place. This has been true as long as I can remember. When my house is clean, I can’t wait to spread out all over the kitchen counters and cook something just for the fun of it. If I try a dish at a restaurant and fall in love, I have to research and play in my kitchen until I can replicate it. Rearranging my drawers and shelves until they function just like I want them centers me. Reading cookbooks like they are novels is a favorite past time. I love to feed people.

Cancer took my kitchen away from me for a while. After surgery I couldn’t physically cook for my family. That period was difficult, but short-lived, and, we were served very graciously by friends and family. Once chemo started, my time in the kitchen was hit or miss – fatigue removed my desire to cook, and then my taste buds were so dampened that when I did cook, food never tasted like it should (I didn’t realize that I had taste changes during chemo, it was only after when my everything started “waking up” that I figured this out.). Again, the body of Christ showed up and provided meals for what felt like a very long time (looking back, it all feels like a blink).

It was in February, while my relationship with this place that is very central to my usual well-being was beginning its disruption, that Ashley gifted me with a copy of Vivian Howard’s cookbook, “Deep Run Roots”. (I may have strongly hinted that I wanted it for Christmas, but my hints were unnoticed. Poor me.) This cookbook is probably bound 3 inches thick – it is a beast. But, it’s a beautiful beast. Organized by chapters, each celebrating one ingredient important to her Eastern North Carolina hometown. I sat on the bench in my kitchen and read chapter by chapter throughout the months of chemo. The stories felt familiar to my own Southern background, but with regional differences from which I could appreciate and learn. I wasn’t cooking, but I was dreaming.

Fast-forward a few months, I picked the book up and read through it again. It was summertime, and one of the recipes that intrigued me the most was for watermelon rind pickles. My Simpson-County-On-The-Border-Of-Smith-County-Born-And-Raised-Husband was immediately on board for trying this out. (For those not from central or south Mississippi, this is a Smith County Watermelon reference.) So, I made them. And, once they were finished, I cried. Not unhappy tears, but very grateful and thankful tears.

Fast-forward a few more months. I receive a text from Ashley that Vivian Howard was going to be signing books at the Mississippi Book Festival. He says that it doesn’t matter what we have planned for that day, I will be at the festival and get that book signed. So, I did. I almost cried, but I didn’t, as I told her very quickly how I read her book during chemo. She was very gracious. It was a good day.

love to you all,
Devin