Maureen Sexsmith-West
Here we are, Thanksgiving Weekend. My how time flies. I was whipping up a batch of Borscht this afternoon (beet soup for those of you not of Ukrainian descent). Despite it’s odd pink colour it offers a world of nutritious ingredients that highlight the bounty of my summer garden harvest so perfectly. I remember as a little girl, driving my Grandfather a little crazy as I made him stop throughout the whole preparation so I could measure everything before he added it to the giant stock pot and record it in my little cook book. No matter how hard I tried, it just never tasted the same. He added his own special touch and love that made it impossible to copy. Yet, I have still passed this recipe on to my children. When I make soup now a days, it is a little like the Master Chef Mystery Box. I open the fridge to see what ingredients are on hand and “voila” – a never to be repeated masterpiece of wholesome goodness. I use the knowledge I have gained from those who came before me to create something uniquely me. Sometimes the batches are less successful. I also recognize that not all my creations will appeal to everyone. Throughout my life there have been many ‘Papas’ that have patiently let me watch them and question them so I could learn every step. What is even more wonderful is that they have given me the freedom the take their recipe and make it my own.
Every single person has blended to bring out the best I have to offer myself, my family, my friends, my clients and my community.
Today, I am truly grateful.
