Cooking With Kids (Magazine Article)
Some of my favorite memories from childhood took place in the kitchen. I vividly remember standing on a kitchen chair, spreading butter on toast while my mom scrambled eggs for our Saturday breakfast. To me, the memory is rich with the smells of toast, the sounds of the knife scraping across the bread, and the taste of warm butter.
To my mom, the memory is slightly different. She can see the piles of toast crumbs in the butter dish, taste slightly burnt toast, and hear the knife as it clatters to the floor just inches from her slipper-clad feet. But the memory is equally pleasant to her.
