As
you all know, here in the U.S., yesterday was Mothers’ Day—a day wherein many
long-suffering mothers are forced to eat burnt toast in their pajamas and their
hard work and boundless love are rewarded with lop-sided homemade trinkets and
bunches of flowers torn from the front yard with the roots still attached.
Being
as I’m grasping to the end of my thirties and Bertie is the only creature
resembling a child in the family, my mother has, happily, survived those
traditional Mothers’ Day tortures to graduate to more sophisticated things in
her honor.
Each
year, my father cooks the Mothers’ Day meal.
He cooks twice a year—both times in May.
Once for Mothers’ Day and once for my mother’s birthday. He’s quite brave about this and doesn’t just
stick to typical father-dishes like hotdogs and boiled beans. No, he tries things—fancy things.
This
year, we were treated to a lovely meal of beef tenderloin with a sauce of cream
and gorgonzola cheese, caramelized onions and mushrooms, organic broccoli and
herbed mashed potatoes. It was a
daunting task and a job well done.
He
concluded his efforts with a tasty, sturdy homemade lemon meringue pie. Hooray for him. All were well-fed.
Being as this Mothers’ Day
also coincided with the date of the celebration of Mr. Punch’s 350th
birthday, my mother added a treat to the festivities. Since I wasn’t able to travel to London to
take place in the “Big Grin,” (since Bertie is not allowed to go into the U.K.)
my mother brought a bit of Covent Garden to us by baking and painstakingly
decorating dozens of adorable Mr. Punch sugar cookies. Look at them!
They’re gorgeous. And, quite tasty—light with a perfect texture. Mr. Punch would be very, very proud and offer
up a hearty, “That’s the way to do it!”
