Brunch-tastic, part two... This one's for my mom.

My mother has tried for decades...literally, decades, to teach me how to cook.  She has always tried to include me, in one way or another, in her kitchen.  She's a natural born hostess, with an eye for a good recipe.  There are dozens, if not hundreds, of books that have lined her bookshelves throughout my entire life bringing together recipes from different sources: magazines, newspapers, churches, cookbooks (naturally), and now I would venture to guess that even one or two online articles have been printed out for her use.  She can time an elaborate meal to come forth from her two (oh yes, there must be more than one) kitchens with impeccable timing.  She has photocopied, and re-photocopied recipes again and again to cook and perfect throughout my lifetime.  We even have a shared place for our historic recipes - The Wilson Family Cookbook, compiled by my Aunt Louise many family reunions ago, and I've even created an update about four years ago.  My mom's family cook book has been taked out of it's original 1" binder and expanded into a 3" binder, with large, overflowing pockets filled with ideas and personal favorites to remember for next time.

Mine?  It has a couple extra Christmas cookie recipes and one for ice cream sandwiches. 

To be fair?  I can rock a mean cookie platter, but cooking is not for me.  I know there are many friends out there snickering under their collective breath that I sell cookware now.  I deserve it.  But, I'm out to learn one thing: how to make it easier.  My mother has been cooking for me for thirty years (31, as of tomorrow), and I know she will for many more decades to come.  However, I feel like now's my time to step up.  To show her I can do it.  To pay homage to the fact that her recipes will not go to waste.  Instead, I will learn them, and new ones, and make her a dinner some day that will make her proud.

Hopefully.

With this past weekend, I spent my second mother's day away from my mom.  It doesn't get any easier.  Especially knowing those 2000 miles aren't going to shrink any time soon, separation is difficult.  In honor of my mother this weekend, even though I knew she wouldn't be there to enjoy it, I made one of her recipes...  Mama Gliwa's French Toast Strata.  She hasn't trademarked it, yet, but real talk, she could if she wanted.  She could bring dictators to their knees for want of it's awesome-ness.  In fact...

Yep.  That's all that was left.  That dish was cleaned out like the Rapture was coming.  It was probably the top of everyone's 'must get seconds of' list, and rightfully so.  I would give you the recipe, but then I'd have to kill you, so here's one that's pretty darn close.  Thank you mom, for your recipe seeking ways, to help me impress my in-laws, and their friends, on a day when I should be sharing this with you.

Love you!

PS: the Carmalized Rosemary Pears were amazing.  I'll gladly make you that recipe the next time we are in the same state.  You'll love them!