Burnt Chocolate Stories

I'm in Miami with my daughter Sarah, visiting my grandson Adam, who lives and works here, and his sister, Elizabeth, who flew down from New York to play with us. Of course they are the most wonderful human beings in the entire world, but I've been thinking about why being with them is so extraordinary, beyond the fact that they belong to me. One gift is that I've lived long enough to see them mature into full blown adults who treasure peace and love and appreciate for the many differences between people. These are the values I hoped to instill in my children and it's wonderful to see them in my grandchildren. I've also been thinking about the differences between our relationship with our children versus our  grandchildren. For one, we worry much less about the decisions they make about life plans, what school they attend, who their friends are, who they love and marry. We're still very much invested without the worry and concern. We leave that to their parents h...

Ben, Matt, Becky, Sarah and Josh Steve and I moved our family to Evanston the same summer as our fifth child, Rebeccah was born. About two years later, the social worker at Lincoln School, Ben Soltz, sent around a sheet asking anyone who wanted to join a mother's group to sign up. Eight of us joined and remained committed for years. I've come to think of that group as mothers mothering mothers. We were committed and rarely missed a Monday afternoon. Ben considered it his way of staying sane. I will be forever grateful for those years. One year, the day after Mother's Day, we shared our individual celebrations with each other. I never considered the holiday terribly important. A day that any of my children helped with the dishes or cleaned up their rooms was a treat. Still in my bed, I could hear the children scampering about and shouted, "Bring me my presents!" And they came running with handmade goodies they'd produced at school. Wanting to hedge my bets, I h...

I've always loved entertaining family and friends in my home. For nearly twenty years, I prepared dinner for seven people almost every day of the week. Then there were the dinner parties for twelve or the buffets for twenty. I've lost track. But I do remember putting together menus, standing in the kitchen for two, sometimes, three hours. Never gave it a thought. I don't remember complaining, so I know enjoyed it. I was a pretty good cook. No complaints except on the nights I was trying to use up leftovers creatively. And everyone remembers the brussel sprout cranberry disaster during Steve's vegetarian days. This past weekend, I prepared brunch for eight people, my daughter and son-in-law along with wonderful friends and two of their grandsons. Simple meal really of smoked salmon, bagels and a noodle casserole. And yet, I found the entire undertaking challenging. I planned my grocery store trips carefully, mixed up the noodles the day before, baked it that morning, set...