Happy Mother’s Day! Share your Mom memory-

This is me and my mom, a few years ago on Cape Cod, in Massachusetts.


This is me (on the right) and my mom – and sister, brother, and dad – one long-ago Christmas.

Somewhere in between those two snapshots in time, my mom taught me to bake.

Mom wasn’t the world’s most avid baker, and never claimed to be. She was more the handyman type (since Dad proclaimed himself a “mechanical Christian Scientist”).

Mom could build shelves, fix bikes, repair the washing machine… AND bake homemade bread and cookies and pie. White bread. Apple pie. And oatmeal cookies, snickerdoodles, chocolate crinkles…

Now that I think about it, Mom baked quite a lot. Back then, baking wasn’t a leisure time activity; it was just something moms did. For the bake sale. For your lunchbox. For your birthday, of course.

And on Sunday, back when that day was an actual day of rest. No shopping; the stores were all closed. It was fancy breakfast, church, and big midday dinner.


Our Sunday breakfast was always one of two things: cinnamon-streusel coffeecake, or cinnamon buns. The coffeecake I loved because Mom always let me have the sugary crumbs in the bottom of the pan, after it was served. The best part of cinnamon buns? Licking the spoon after she’d spread on the icing, of course.

I watched. I scooped peanut butter cookies and made the fork marks on top. I poured muffin batter into the pan, spread butter on top of just-baked bread to keep the crust soft, and (haltingly) rolled out pie crust. And always, licked the beaters and bowl, learning to associate baking with yummy flavors and Mom time.

And gradually, I became a baker. No formal lessons; just osmosis, and the constant passing of wisdom from parent to child.

Now I bake every day. I’ve gone way beyond those initial cookies and breakfast sweets; now Mom reads this blog. And (she says), learns from me.

But I’d never be where I am today unless someone, long ago, took my hand and showed me the way. With patience, guidance, and love.

Thanks, Mom. I owe it all to you.

Oh – and if you want to re-create those Sunday cinnamon buns, I’ve worked up a recipe I think you’ll love: Now or Later Cinnamon Buns. We’ll make them together next time I visit, OK?

Happy Mother’s Day, to our mothers everywhere!

Readers, please share your family baking memories in the comments section below. We look forward to hearing from you.

[Ed. note: It’s late in the evening of Mother’s Day, and I’d like to thank each and every one of you for the wonderful stories you’ve posted in the comments section below. Funny, bittersweet heartwarming… And at the end of the day – particularly this special day – what it all boils down to is this: love is the answer.]

PJ Hamel

PJ Hamel grew up in New England, graduated from Brown University, and was a Maine journalist before joining King Arthur Flour in 1990. PJ bakes and writes from her home on Cape Cod, where she enjoys beach-walking, her husband, two dogs, and really good food!


  1. Jessie @ simplysifted

    My Mom is an amazing cook, but she hates to bake. One of my favorite memories is of her trying to make a homemade pie crust and getting so frustrated that she threw it in the sink. It may not seem like a happy memory, but my Mom is so cool and collected all the time that was great to see her lose her temper for a change.

    My Nana on the other hand loves to bake. She taught me all about pie crust, cinnamon rolls, and whoopie pies. We talk on the phone every Tuesday and tell stories about what we’re making that week.

    I once threw a full dinner plate across the room. My 24-year-old son remembers that moment vividly to this day… 🙂 PJH

  2. Beth

    PJ, I came to baking exactly as you did, learning from my mom. She wasn’t/isn’t as much obsessed with baking as someone who liked to bake things for events and parties (always home made birthday cakes and fresh brownies brought to the end of my high school track meets) and used it as a fun way to pass an afternoon with her children. She always let my brother and I have the “good jobs” like scooping out the cookie dough onto the sheet, cracking the eggs and putting on the sprinkles while she stood back and washed the dishes and put away the ingredients after they were used. I don’t know at what point in my life I went from liking to bake with my mom to becoming an avid baker but over the years it just happened. And now I bake professionally, running my own small cupcake company in Newton, MA. I guess I’m like you, owing my hobby-turned-profession to my mom. Thanks mom!

    Hey, hope the business is going well do you have a storefront in Newton? I’ll have to drop by sometime… Thanks for sharing your warm memories here, Beth. PJH

  3. Kathy

    I owe my mother and grandmother — and others in my family who bake — a huge debt for letting me mess up the kitchen, week after week, for 4-H baking. My brother and I were second-generation (and possibly third-gen) 4-H members, and Mom’s and Grandma’s tutelage (in conjunction with 4-H food projects) led to my passion for all things homemade and made with love today. They taught me how to measure flour and liquids properly, among other lessons, and the family always ate up my efforts toward those coveted blue and purple ribbons. I took a variety of 4-H projects every year of my 10 years, but a baking or cooking project (and dairy and beef cattle) was the constant. I am now almost 32, and I am proud to say that I have been baking and cooking since I was at least eight years old. Without my family to guide me, this would not be true.

  4. marbarre

    When my Mom passed away, my sister and I did not fight over jewelry, silverware or money….we fought over who got the mixing bowls which my mother used in her baking, and particularly, the one in which she her let her bread rise. We compromised and shared them, although being older, I did prevail on the bread rising bowl, which I still proudly use with love.

  5. Allie

    My mom and I have made so many cookies! 🙂 She taught me to do things from a recipe. One year in high school I was in charge of dinner 2 nights a week. I made all kinds of things. My parents dove right and ate everything, even it was slightly burned grilled cheese sandwiches. 🙂 They are really good sports. I read somewhere that anyone who can read can cook, and I believe that.

    Tomorrow, my parents are coming over to visit. I’m making pizza for lunch, and then my dad is going to get a lesson in how to make a cake from scratch. My mom will no doubt take a bunch of pictures. My mom LOVES to take pictures of us doing silly things. Today I plan to make cupcake decorations ahead of time (cupcakes will cool faster than a cake, and then we can eat some while they are here). I’m making sunflowers and ladybugs to put on top of the cupcakes. 🙂

    Allie, homemade decorations? You go, girl! 🙂 PJH

  6. cindy leigh

    What a great topic, PJ!
    I used to bake with my Nana when I was little. I remember rolling out extra pie crust scraps, sprinkling with cinnamon sugar, and baking. She made my birthday cake every year. Daffodil cake was a favorite, until I discovered I loved her boiled raisin cake. Many years later I used her recipe to bake my wedding cake. She was gone by then, but I felt like she was with me.
    My mom and sister and I are great in the kitchen together. We love to cook for family gatherings and parties, and have such fun doing it. And now I’m teaching my daughter all those precious family recipes, like Nana’s stollen and Mia’s (my mom’s) cheesecake. But really the truly precious thing passed down from generation to generation is an unbroken chain of love that runs through our hearts, by way of our kitchens. Our kitchen is not only where we bake, it’s where we gather, laugh, pray, sustain each other, and remember generations now gone.
    Happy Mother’s Day to all my baking buddies!

    Cindy, this is beautiful – I’m going to cut and paste it into our company newsletter so everyone can enjoy your words. Let’s spread the love, shall we? And Happy Mother’s Day to you and all the moms in your family. 🙂 PJH

  7. Janene

    I remember my Mom baking cookies for me to take to school for my birthdays. Snickerdoodles or oatmeal chocolate chip were most requested! My Mom makes wonderful cinnamon rolls and has the patience to bake pies, which I don’t!

    I enjoy making yeast bread which my Mom loves. I usually bake her bread for gifts, which makes her happy. In fact I’ll be baking some for her Mother’s Day gift! It makes me happy to be able to make something with my own hands, baked with love!

    “Baked with love” is the key, Janene – thanks for sharing your memories. PJH

  8. Memoria

    Ooo, I wish I had at least one parent like that haha. I sometimes wonder how it is to be raised home-baked goods and shelves built by one of the parents and stuff like that. It sounds so idyllic even though it was obviously a reality for many. Lovely post. Thank you.

    Memoria, many of us grew up in the ’50s/early ’60s, when life was a bit slower – before cell phones, Internet, computers, DVDs, CDs, heck, almost pre-television. It was a different time; not so much money around, and families did a lot of things that nowadays we don’t think of tackling. In retrospect, idyllic… perhaps. We had hand-me-down clothes and bikes and shoes, but we never thought about it; just the way it was. So long as there was love, we were rich. PJH

  9. Kathleen

    My mother was not a baker. Betty Crocker and Duncan Hines were responsible for cakes and brownies;Table Talk produced the pies and all the muffins were Jiffy. Helping led to doing, and then I discovered cookbooks.If I wanted to bake something I had to give an ingrediant list before shopping day and promise to do the clean up. When I was fourteen I started to bake my way through Beard on Bread, so thanks Mom for giving me plenty of room in your kitchen.

  10. Jennifer in Texas

    My mother was a single parent who worked two jobs, she wasn’t much of a cook, at the time I didn’t know it. When I was growing up she would cook rice and it was always kind of watery, where you have to get it out of the pan with a slotted spoon. When my mother married the first time he made dinner there was rice and I was shocked to a pot full of fluffy dry rice. It a running joke in my family. I love her, and Happy Mothers Day to all the mothers!

  11. Wendy (The Local Cook)

    My mom didn’t do much baking on a daily basis, but she always made our birthday cakes. And around Christmas she was a baking queen! She always made TONS of different kinds of goodies, but my favorite is banket (Dutch pastry with almond filling).

  12. Megan

    I attribute my love of baking to my mother and my grandmother. My mother is not an avid baker. She bakes cookies or A to Z bread/muffins (you can add anything from apples to zuchini) every couple of weeks, and her famous pie crusts and cheesecake only during the holidays. As a child I loved watching and being involved in her baking.

    Starting at about age 10, I would look through her orange covered, yellow paged, Betty Crocker cookbook and find desserts I wanted to make. I would ask her if I could try a recipe and she would always say yes. The kitchen was mine. That was a wonderful gift. The freedom to try recipes of my choosing, on my own. I made layer cakes, jelly rolls, and a multitude of things. I remember, particularly, the time I first made cream puffs. My grandmother was visiting and I was about 11 or 12 and they looked delicious in the Betty Crocker cookbook. I made the puffs and they turned out beautifully. But, when I began to make the lemon filling (I don’t remember exactly what it was) it just didn’t work. I don’t remember what happened to it, but I remember it was atrocious. My grandmother said, “It’s ok, just use some lemon pudding.” So, I filled them with lemon pudding and no one was the wiser!

    My grandmother, my other baking influence, was a great yeast baker. She made the most delectible dinner rolls and cinnamon rolls. Our family went crazy for them. I have vivid memories of bowls and bowls filled with rising yeast dough. And my grandmother saying “Don’t eat that or you stomack will explode!” In fact, when I make yeast bread, I always let my nose linger on the smell of flour, water and yeast; it brings back the most vivid memories. I bake yeast bread because of her, the joyous memories I have smelling that unique scent, and the power it has to make people happy. I only wish I would have found this site before she passed. She would have LOVED it.

    Tomorrow I am baking ‘Blitz Tort’ for my mother. I thank her for my confidence to try new things.

  13. Lynn

    My mom worked and most baked things were boxed mixes… but my G-Mom-B baked, and baked well!!! Loved to “help” her in the kitchen and the house always smelled good. As a matter of fact, I just pulled an apple/rhubarb pie out of the oven making it just as Grandmom would have, my sons specifically requested it!
    Happy Mother’s Day!

  14. Amy

    I remember being 4 or 5 years old and my mom was trying to make a nut roll recipe that was from my dad’s family. She wasn’t much of a baker at the time and struggled. She dropped some of the yeast dough on the floor and our dog ate it. She thought it would make him sick so she yelled at me to call my grandma. I still remember her crying into the phone, “Barney ate yeast! Is he going to explode?!” My grandma talked her down, the recipe turned out fine, and the dog survived another 10 years. Luckily, she and I both developed my grandma’s baking gene and are successful bakers.

    By the way, my first attempt at baking nut roll resulted in me breaking my toe!

  15. tofugirl

    My mom didn’t do much baking from scratch (although we always got cake mix yellow cake for our birthdays, covered in whipped cream and fruit!) but she did (and still does!) make really delicious baked Chinese sticky rice cakes. Mostly on holidays, but man, there is nothing like a warm, stretchy, coconutty sticky rice cake. And now, I make it too! The cake is delicious, but the tradition is even better.

  16. Becky at MyKidsMake

    I loved baking with my mom. I can remember cookies, tea parties, picnics, and the MOST fantastic birthday cakes. One year my mom made me a gigantic pink castle. cake. I think it took her a few days to just bake all the turrets.

    As a mom myself, one of my favorite things to do with my own kids is to bake and create. Some of the best times are spent around a mixing bowl and the oven. I have started documenting it on our website. Take a look.

  17. Pat Irish

    My Mom and Grandmother always baked but my mother in law taught me to make pies and bread. She always used King Arthur Flour. With 9 kids in the family she would make 2-4 loaves of bread at a time. She bought flour in the 50 lb sack. That was in 1959. It never looked like a chore to me, she seemed to make it pretty ordinary and was part of her daily routine. (All of my friends Mom’s baked when I was growing up.) She was 90 something when she passed away. Thanks Mom, I still miss you.

  18. Evita

    When we were quite little, my Mom used to make pies once in a while, and she always made sure to make extra pie crust dough for us kids. She allowed my two brothers and I to be creative with it, play-do style.
    We used to squish and flatten it into fanciful kid ‘cookies’ of all shapes. We worked the dough so much that it turned gray with the dirt on our small hands. 🙂 But we shook cinnamon-sugar mix over all and she baked them to a lovely golden color. Then we got to eat our creations, dirt and all. Delicious!!! They were the best cookies ever!
    She later commented that it was okay, because her Mother always said that “all kids ate a peck of dirt before they grew up” anyway. Isn’t that the truth?! :-)))

  19. Denise Kennedy

    Mine is a kid story. My older son Bob who is now 24 started baking with me as a little boy; 3-4 yrs. old. He would scoop flour and mix the ingredients. I was using whole grain flours before they were popular. He could bake from scratch at about 10. He is always asked to bring Irish Soda Bread when he goes to a party!

  20. toni

    Mom’s favorite cake was a hit with the “girls” who came to knit, sew and later, play Pokeno for nickels. Her angel cake would rise up the side of the funnel pan, the surface cracked and crusted to perfection, tinted a Barbie kind of pink. It was light and soft and sweet. She would set it to cool upside down on the neck of an empty ketchup bottle. Its fresh-from-the-oven aroma made me yearn for a taste. But there was a price to be paid for this cake, exactingly made from scratch. (Box mixes were too expensive; “you’re paying for the convenience” Mom sneered, as if the Devil himself had deliberately put temptation in her path to test her fortitude.) In order to make an angel food cake, thirteen whites were needed. That meant thirteen yolks and shells had to be accounted for. The shells were quickly crushed, added to that day’s coffee grounds and vegetable peelings and buried in the compost heap. The yolks however came calling like eager suitors every day for thirteen days. Each morning Mom blended the yolk for me into a milkshake-type concoction (less than thoroughly, picture the slimy strands of jellyfish). She tried her best to camouflage this breakfast “beverage” by serving it in an opaque tumbler while making encouraging remarks about its health benefits. Both of us knew it looked unappealing and tasted worse, but what choice was there? Finally, on the fourteenth day, the madness ended. Mom and I would sit together and share a slice of pink angel food cake. Was it worth it? You bet!

  21. Lesley Pew

    One of my favorite memories was a birthday cake my mother made for me. We had just moved into a new house and she invited some of the childen around the neighborhood so we could get aquainted.
    She spent hours beforehand making a three-layer cake – large layer on the bottom – medium in the middle – small layer on top. She inserted a “ginnie doll” (a doll about 6 inches tall) in the top of the cake and frosted the cake with a white buttercream frosting and edible frosting flowers to look like an evening gown.
    We played many games and I have many friends from that time.

  22. Nancy Schofer

    My mother baked a lot. One favorite recipe was for Conga Bars, which she clipped from the Chicago Tribune over 50 years ago. They are basically blondies with chocolate chips and nuts. Between us, over the years, we have probably made many thousands of them, all well received. I have sent them to my kids at college and elsewhere. When the Chicago Tribune recently asked for favorite family recipes, I submitted this one back to them, and won $25 for my contribution!

  23. Jamey

    I remember my mother rolling out dumplings. I watched something so easy make something so spectacular with just a little effort. In all her and my grandmothers cooking, I learned who loved, and who doesn’t. You can judge a lot about someone and how much effort they put into cooking for you. There is take out and then there is homemade chicken-pot-pie, or home made chili with homemade corn bread. Life is too short to stop and pick the best basil for the stew! Happy mother’s day all!

  24. pam

    my kids were always at my side when i baked, but my son took particular interest. the first phrase out of his mouth was ‘pieca bread!!!!!!!!!’, shouted from his crib at approx 10 or 11 pm, those late nights when i would bake the week’s bread. i would take a slice, put butter on it, and take it to him in his crib, and to this day he remembers that. something rubbed off, as he is graduating from culinary school in two weeks! the best picture i have of him is at 6 years old rolling out cookies, impish smile on his face, and busted with a mouth full of dough, flour all over his face. priceless……….

  25. Eunice Rohlinger

    When my daughter, Holly was about six or seven, she had three girl friends who lived next door, ages about 5, 8 and 11. One day the oldest, Terri, came over with a cookbook and said she wanted to bake a pie while her Mom was at work. She chose a recipe and went home to get started.

    In a few moments the phone rang; it was Terri. “Eunice, this recipe says to use Wesson oil and we don”t have any. Could I use Karo syrup, it looks about the same?” I quickly told her “OH, NO, you come over and get some Wesson oil!”

  26. Tammy

    My Mom was always baking! She made cookies constantly, cinnamon rolls, cakes, bread and rolls. At the time, it didn’t seem particularly special, it was just something that she did. Now, however, it seems like fewer people bake. I’m quite proud to say that I am not one of those people. I LOVE to bake! Our love of baking goes back even further, though.

    I remember a trip to visit my Gram and Gramps one summer. My two sisters and I spent a month with our beloved grandparents. Gram made homemade rolls every day – we were in heaven. The recipe she used is still used to this day by my Mom, Gram, both my sisters, and me.

    When my kids were younger, we would bake cookies together. The most fun we had was when I cut templates out of poster board by tracing their hands. We used those to make life size sugar cookies of each of their hands. My daughter and I would decorate her “hands” with nail polish and rings, all made from colored icing. My son, tough little man that he was, liked his “hands” unadorned.

    Neither of my kids was ever very interested in baking after that, but we all still share the memories of our “hand cookies.” I, on the other ‘hand’, still love to bake. I was up very early today to start the dough for your Braided Lemon Bread. It’s the first time I’ve tried this particular recipe, but I know it will be great. I made the lemon curd last night, and with the wonderful smelling dough that is rising in my kitchen as I type, I know this will be a big hit when my Mom and Gram arrive for Mother’s Day brunch in a few hours.

    Thanks for all of the wonderful recipes. KAF ROCKS!!

  27. Kathy

    PJ–thanks so much for sharing. Your descriptions so vivid. This conjured warm feelings and great memories for me as well. My mom spent days and days making a million different types of Christmas cookies to give to friends and teachers. This family tradition continues…my boys and I have continued. Christmas would not be complete without this family gathering. Thanks Mom and thanks PJ!

  28. Lisa Lettenmaier

    My mom and I have always enjoyed baking and cooking together!! I remember at an early age pulling up a chair and stirring or measuring the ingrediants to so many yummy treats!! We made homemade cakes, cookies, pies and cobblers!! I too started cooking early and she and I ate it all, good or bad, burned or runny hahaha!! She had the patience and love to share her talents with me and I’m a better person because of her!! Happy Mother’s Day to all !!!!

  29. Ernestine Ranson


    Thanks for reviving some great memories. My Mother has been gone for 40 years but I still remember learning to cook and bake with her. One of my favorite times was making pizelles. I still have her old stove top iron. She put the dough on the iron and I was in charge of timing and turning it. We had some of our best talks at those times. My son now loves to cook, though time for baking is scarce. I do that, bread, birthday cakes, cookies. Cookies especially with my grandchildren. It is fun to watch them learning to take care with cracking eggs, measuring and pouring. A skill and a joy to last a lifetime.

    Happy Mother’s Day!

  30. elledee

    I guess my mother’s special gift to me in the kitchen was – staying out of my way! She never had a cross word for me while I forged on by myself, making piles of cooking and baking mistakes along the way. In her own way, she taught me that 1) it’s always fine to try, 2) you can learn from experience, and 3) it’s good manners to clean up after yourself! Thanks, Mum! xo

  31. Michael

    Cooking, baking, I owe all of that to my mom. She always let me help in the kitchen as soon as I was old enough to be a help and not a pending ER visit!
    She showed me how to make my first pancakes, french toast, a cake. She showed me how to scramble my first egg and so much more. People always say to me, “Man you are a really good home chef!” And I know where it ll started.

    One memory sticks out though. Right before my 5th birthday, my mom asked me what kind of cake would I Iike for my party. She obviously was looking for an answer of “chocolate” or “strawberry” or some request for ice-cream etc…. So what was my answer to her? I said I wanted a “Monkey Cake.” I was heavy into Curious George at the time and, somewhere in my five year old mind, decided that a “Monkey Cake” was the perfect birthday cake.

    She scoured all over our little town for something to make a “Monkey Cake” whatever in the world that was. This was 1972 in a small town in California so it wasn’t like she could troll the internet looking for ideas, and her friends were stumped too. A Monkey Cake?

    My birthday cake rolled out before my eyes a few days later that Spring day and there it was. It was my mom’s best chocolate frosted, yellow cake, adorned with a dozen little plastic monkey figures all around my five candles in various poses. On one aisle of the local 5 and dime she had found one little package of monkeys. She has a picture of me looking at the cake candle lit cake while everyone was singing to me and you’ve never seen a kid so happy. Thanks, mom! I got my Monkey Cake!

  32. Linda

    I had the good fortune to have been brought up by two European grandmothers – one Swedish, and one Hungarian. Both could cook and bake magnificently. My mother was a professional woman, and worked during the day – so I had the benefit of spending all non-school hours with the Swedish grandmother, who lived with us; and visiting the Hungarian gandmother on the weekends.

    Two particular memories come to me at this moment. 1) My Swedish grandmother saying to me – you’re old enough to walk, you’re old enough to bake! And with that, she put a piece of bread dough in my hands and taught me what to do with it. Talk about hands-on learning experiences!

    2) My Hungarian grandmother had a rickety card table. Almost every weekend she would put it up, cover it with a well-worn clean bedsheet, flour it, put a piece of dough in the middle, and with magic hands pulled the dough until it covered the table. Tthen she sliced apples directly on it; added sugar and spices; rolled it up, cut it, and put it into baking pans.
    You can understand why I never eat commerical apple strudel!

    The funny side to all of this is that when both these kitchen magicians passed on, and my mother had to run her own household, she was stuck with a smug teenager who could cook and bake her under the table! We had some “interesting” moments. We worked out a system. She caught up fast, and became a really good cook.

    As many of today’s young women, at least in this busy Washington, DC metropolitan area, have not had the benefit of grandmothers like these,
    I have made it a point to take a few under my wing and teach them as if they were my granddaughters.

  33. Judy

    Saturday morning, waking up to the smell of apricot rolls hot from the oven. I don’t think there could every be a better way to wake up!

  34. Nikki Pals

    I remember the first time I wanted to bake something. I was about 7 years old. I had a box of brownie mix and my mom said read the instructions and get all of your ingredients together then call me. I gathered everything I would need, greased the pan, set the oven to the correct temp and called mom. When I passed her first inspection I was instructed to make the brownies then call her before I put them in the oven. I carefully mixed everything, just 50 stirs just as instructed, poured the heavenly chocolate batter into the pan and called mom. She looked pleased then asked me what I intended to do with the eggs that were sitting in the bowl.
    My first failure averted I learned to read directions and above all to assemble everything I need. ( A year later I no one to blame but myself when my first fudge was more the consistancy and weight of a cinder block.)
    I never paid much attention to what mom and grandma or for that matter my dad did in the kitchen but they were all great cooks and bakers.
    Had I known that my mom would die before I had a chance to learn more of her kitchen skills I would have payed more attention. My grandma died a few years later and my dad a few years after that. All taking my favorite recipes with them.
    Please share the family recipes. If no one is interested now write them down. Trust me it is a heartbreak when they are gone forever.

  35. Carol

    I remember my mother making raisin bread. She got out a huge stainless roasting pan, and would start warming the flour on top of the stove, while the double-boiler insert sat on another burner filled with raisins, water, 2 sticks of butter. She never measured. [One of my older sisters once stood by with measuring cups, catching flour as Mom poured it into the pan, and managed to get a fairly good written recipe. But none of us have Mom’s ‘hands’ for kneading.]
    When the dough was mixed and kneaded, she’d cover the pan with a kitchen towel, wrap it in a woolen blanket and tuck it into the corner of the couch to rise. She used her mother’s bread pans, crusted black from use.
    When the loaves had cooled a bit, she would pick up a loaf and tap the Sign of the Cross on the bottom of the loaf with the ‘slicer’, and what followed this silent prayer was Heaven! Nothing will ever compare to that bread.

  36. Mimi

    My mother and grandmothers (2 plus one aunt) taught me how to cook. I was the only American born, first generation person in a family of seven. A tremendous amount of cooking went on, as you can imagine. With that many people to feed, eating out was a luxury reserved for birthdays. The four women in my life mostly cooked, there wasn’t a ton of baking, per se, but being of Polish heritage, there were ponchki at Easter and various versions of fried dough. Some of my best memories are from meals around that table, and I often find myself wishing I could go back for just one more meal. My mother did have one special dessert, she always made it for Christmas and my brother’s birthday, it was a flourless chocolate roll torte filled with almond scented whipped cream, just heavenly. Our house was always the host house for holiday parties and gatherings, so the baking gradually became my resposibility. I relished the opportunity because it was an open niche for me to show off what I could do, and that made me feel a tremendous amount of pride, that I, too, could contribute something to the table. Now, I continue to bake and I love the emails that you send with all the different recipes. It was my mother that taught me to bake with King Arthur flour, and to this day, it is all I will use. I make my own sourdough bread, and your flour is the only one that ever goes into the bread or to feed my starter! Thanks for an amazing product and for allowing us to share.

  37. Stacy

    My mom also baked constantly. She grew up in a small Midwestern town and spent copious amounts of time in church basements with her dozen (or so) aunties. They even have a family cookbook compiled in the ’80s — she bought extra copies for my sister and me. There could be many stories, but there is one I have in my head today.

    Less than a year ago I moved across the country from my mom, but when I made her gingersnap recipe last month my kitchen smelled just like Christmas at home. It was the fourth or fifth time I’d made those cookies but the first time I got them right, because she doesn’t actually follow the recipe, of course.

  38. Rosemary C

    Like Marbaree, when my Mom died, my sister and I light heartedly fought over who would get Mom’s iron skillets. My Mom was not a great baker, (a great cook, however) but she made a fabulous pineapple upside down cake in an iron skillet. I always marveled how she could flip the cake out with one hand. I got the iron skillets and marveled even more when, despite workouts at the gym, I had a hard time flipping that skillet.

    I always baked with our kids and now with our grandkids. Our 15 year old grandson calls my “almost almond roca” bars: “Christmas crack” because they are so addictive. I have only had one mishap: our then 6 year old grand daugher was helping me make chocolate dipped bowls over inflated balloons. As we stood admiring the dipped balloon, it popped, sending chocolate over the whole kitchen and all over us. After a good laugh, we cleaned up. I found chocolate splatters for days after that. Kitchen time is love time. Happy Mother’s Day! Miss you, Mom.

  39. Monique

    My sister and I (and both brothers) learned at an early age how to cook from our mother. We didn’t realize it at the time, we thought it was fun, but she taught us our fractions by varying how we added ingredients: for 1 1/2 cup of whatever, we’d sometimes have to measure with quarter cups, sometimes with half cups, etc. My sister even taught her European-metric-only new husband how to do fractions using measuring cups! I had always thought Mum to be psychic–how else did she know just when we were home from school and have cookies or cupcakes ready from the oven? It wasn’t until years later that she told us she could always see us walking up the long road and simply timed things just right. Once we were looking at old photos of the kitchen and asked why her lower cabinets had a long inch wide gouged out portion running the length of the cabinets? She told us it was from our chairs that we jammed up against the cabinets when we “helped her cook”. It wasn’t until we were old enough to stand at the counter before she could have the kitchen cabinets done over—that’s love! they were truly awful looking. Even now, people will ask “where did you learn to cook so well?” the answer is always –Mum. Thanks Mum for the love and memories.

  40. Dwight

    My mother and her mother were accomplished cooks and bakers – midwestern farm cookery. My grandmother could whip up a meringue for her banana cream pie using a dinner fork. Her sugar cookies were a constant presence in the old pantry cupboard, stashed in a tin that dated from the early 1900s. The Depression dictated one raisin per 4″ cookie, the trick being to save it for the last bite. Her cakes and pies were amazing. My mother was equally skilled but working full-time limited her ability to bake.

    There are no particular moments, but my mother and grandmother gave me the confidence to cook and bake – and keep trying until I got it right. As a result, I do most of the cooking and all of the baking for our family. We try for a sit-down dinner every night simply because some of my best memories are from around the big table in the farmhouse, and I’d like my boys to know, appreciate, and continue the tradition into their adult lives with their families.

    I spent every Saturday on the farm, and well recall how we all slid into our chairs, scrubbed clean from farm chores, as the noon whistle sounded, ready for meat and potatoes (I cannot recall rice EVER being served) and a vegetable – sweet corn minutes from the field or her canned beans during the winter.

    And, yes, while I don’t want to sound curmudgeonly, it was a slower, simpler time and the provenance of the food was impeccable. A big noon meal (dinner) broke the day and was always followed by a quick nap before heading back out to work – much as is the practice in France or Spain or Italy.

    What I’d give to have one of those meals again, but I do like to think that they inspired me to care about sharing good, homemade food with family. We’re not likely to bring that era back, but I know that it is a great thing when our boys lean back and start to talk and laugh as the meal unwinds instead of rushing off to their computers or iPhones.

  41. Mallory

    My mom and I have baked together for as long as I can remember. We started out making cookies when I was probably 2 – I would crack eggs and stir together the dry ingredients, and watch as she combined everything in the big mixer, and then I got to lick the beaters. We would watch the cookies bake under the oven lights and she would hug me and tell me her secrets about how to make the best cookies in the world. She is a pro at all kinds of baking but probably her signature thing has been sugar cookies with a hint of lemon – they’re amazing. When I was in 3rd grade she brought different shapes of cookies to my class every week – I was so popular! At Christmas we would really shine; we made tons of different cookies and I would decorate each specially with her encouragement and we gave them to people around the city (and that meant a lot of people and cookies, since my mom can’t help but make friends wherever she goes). In high school, I got into cooking and bread baking and we spent even more time together in the kitchen, talking about life, her giving me advice and just listening to me, laughing together and nibbling at yummy ingredients and various doughs. Now I live 1800 miles away but we still always think of each other and are together in spirit when we are in our respective kitchens, and we call each other up for baking advice and to tell about our baking fiascoes and successes. I have a frame over my sink with photos of us over the years baking together – it makes me happy every time I see it. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom, my favorite baker and best friend!!

  42. Helena Georgette

    My mom did not really like cooking. She would rather be sewing or out in the yard gardening. If she wasn’t sewing or gardening she would be working. She did bake some. The best gift she gave me was that she let me go in the kitchen. I love to bake & cook. It is an escape from troubles!

  43. HMB

    My German dad refused to eat American bread, so of course my Swiss mother baked German rye bread. And what are holidays without traditional baked goods? So it was German Stollen and all kinds of Swiss cookies for Advent and Christmas, a special Swiss Zopf for Easter. Sundays were always a time for Kaffee und Kuchen (coffee and cake) — and that meant seasonal fruit tarts or various cakes. For birthdays and our name day (feast of the saint we were named after), there was always the cake of our choice. You name it, my mother could bake it — and thanks to her, I can too! Just this week, my older son called from college — he’d misplaced the recipe for his favorite cake, which was his grandfather’s favorite cake — so would I please email it, because he was planning to make it for a class potluck. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?

  44. Sue

    Cindy leigh, Would you be willing to share the boiled raisin cake recipe with us?
    My Mom is a great cook,but willingly admits she is not a baker. She would make a cake or cookies here and there but could not master anything with yeast. Where I got my love of baking must have come from the yeast in my genes passed on by my Grandmother.I have only heard of how great her breads and cinnamon rolls were(that was why my Dad married my Mom LOL) The love that was in our kitchen could not be measured.All 5 of us love to cook and bake and are passing that love on to our children.

  45. Nancy Humbach

    During the War, Mom and I spent a lot of time at home cooking. One day when I was about three, she was baking pies. I wanted to bake a pie, too. So she told me to wash my hands and she would help me. I did as told (washing palms only, of course) and assured her my hands were clean. She gave me a small piece of pie dough and a rolling pin. By the time I was finished, the dough had fallen on the floor a couple of times, was mangled by slightly clean hands until had taken on an ominous shade of gray. Undaunted by the mess and gray dough, Mom put some apples in the dough, already in a very small pie tin. We baked it and I designated it for “Daddy’s lunch” the next day. I just found out, about 65 years later, that she secretly threw it out, after Dad praised me to the heavens and told me it was the best apple pie ever. To this day, I love baking pies, an art I learned from Mom, whose pies were the favorites of everyone among family and friends.

  46. Marsha

    As a child, I remember Mommy making special Baker’s coconut “cut-up” cakes for our birthdays, in the shapes of teddy bears or other fun things. As an adult, she gave me my favorite cookbook in 1972, “The Joy of Cooking.” When I discovered KAF in 2004, the “Baker’s Companion” became my favorite.

  47. Nancy J

    Circa 1956, when I was about 6 years old I was helping Mom mix something (tasty, I’m sure) in the electric mixer. Somehow my long ponytail got caught in the beaters and it pulled my head down to the bowl. My Mom kept her cool and extricated my hair from the beaters and we went back to the bathroom for a shampoo. She did not appear to have lost focus and I had no idea how upset with herself she was. I only learned that years later. Just think of all the kitchen accidents our Moms handled without any big fuss, just doing what needed done. Thanks to Mom, I love to bake. I do have a healthy respect for my electric mixer.

  48. Maureen

    What a beautiful post! This is our first Mother’s Day without my Mom, who died just before Christmas. She and my grandmother taught me how to bake and cook, and I remember lots of wonderful times in the kitchen. (In an Irish-Italian family, much of our time was – and still is – spent in the kitchen.) My greatest accomplishment was my first loaf of bread at age 12, which turned out so well that Mom let me take over the bread-baking. I felt so proud!

    As an adult, I often thanked my mother for teaching me how to bake and giving me not only a practical skill but many warm memories. My older sister, her younger daughter (now a mom herself) and I recently spent the afternoon recreating our aunt’s rice torta and recalling what it was like to grow up with such good food and togetherness. Those times are priceless. It is indeed a gift of love and nurturing that we pass on from generation to generation. Thanks for all that you do at King Arthur to help carry on the tradition. Happy Mother’s Day!

  49. Jay

    Being one of 5 kids, my mother was always baking when we were growing up — but my favorite memory is the birthday cake she made for my 4th birthday — 3 tiers, like a wedding cake, with those rock-hard white sugary birds and roses they used to sell — but boy oh boy was I in heaven! She always baked using a “Foley Fork” that my Dad had welded back together several times — when my sister and I discovered that our brother has thrown “that old fork” out after Mom passed away, we almost disowned him! We both still love to bake and continue to do so for friends, family, even our dogs. Thanks Mom!

  50. Kathleen

    Mom never baked bread until later in life when she got a bread maker, but cakes and pies and cookies, oh my! She even made cream puffs and other delicacies for us. Christmas was our favorite time in the kitchen, making mincemeat filled cookies, spice cookies, and the most delicate sandies, among others. When each of my brothers married, we were charged with teaching them to make Shoo-fly pie, too. Birthdays were an occasion for us to select the menu and she would always make me a devil’s food cake with green cream cheese frosting – not matter what anyone said! Thanks for bringing up this topic – there are some very happy memories there.

  51. Mike T.

    We always had something baked in the house. Whether it was pies, cakes, cinnamon rolls or just cookies, there was always something. I can remember her and my grandmother rolling and cutting cinnamon rolls when I got home from school. 🙂

    She would let me help her mix up cakes, and of course, lick the beaters. That led me to baking cakes whenever she and my dad went out with their friends and left my sister and me at home. It was my chance to “do it myself” and that’s what led me to building my baking skills. I new mothers that would have a fit that their kid was doing something like operating a hot oven and using a mixer without them there, but mine never did. I think they just liked coming home with their friends in tow and having something fresh waiting for them. I know she was always so proud telling them that “Michael made this”. 🙂 Ah, good memories…

  52. Jeanne from NJ

    My mother was an artist whose creativity did not extend to the kitchen. She only made 3 dishes that were exceptionally good — meat loaf, cole slaw, and a cake dessert she called cottage pudding — but she taught me those and encouraged my incomprehensible (to her) interest in baking & cooking, signing me up for a 4-H club as soon as I was old enough, eating my leaden cakes and leathery pie crusts until they actually became praise-worthy, and finally bragging about my talents and county fair ribbons with wonder and a little envy. Obviously, you don’t have to be a good cook to be a great mother.

  53. Susan Kehoe-Laptew

    Mom taught us to bake early on – my earliest memory is spooning chocolate chip cookie dough at age 5.
    We always did birthday cakes and lamb shaped cakes at Easter.
    Mom died in 1999. but her recipes and gift of fun while baking lives on.

  54. Sharon

    My Mom was the youngest of 4 girls. One could cook like an angel (if angels cook), one was the family baker, who baked lemon meringue pies to cry for and tiny cinnamon rolls she baked in a square pan which my brother and I could finish in one sitting along with an unreasonable amount of sweet butter, one could sew and knit, and there was my Mom, who burnt every pot she cooked in, even water! Because of her (or in spite of her), I learned early on to cook and bake and love it. Perhaps she wasn’t very good in the kitchen, but our house was filled with laughter all the time. I hope my daughters remember me with the love I still feel for my mother.

  55. Kelly J

    My mom and I both owe our baking abilities to her mom, my Grammy. She was an absolute master in the kitchen who never seemed to need a cookbook or recipe. When I was a little girl, I remember standing on a chair next to her in the kitchen carefully adding ingredients; sometimes holding the mixer and always getting a taste test! I also had my very own apron that she made for me. My favorite thing she baked was her lemon meringue pie. The crust was perfect and buttery, the filling was smooth and lemony and the meringue was thick and perfectly browned.

    My mom makes an amazing ricotta pie and also red velvet cake. My favorite baking memory is all the crazy preparation the week leading up to hosting family and friends for Christmas Eve. She and I would work ourselves into a frenzy preparing all the food and baking cakes, cookies, pies and candies. It was exhausting but always worth it to see our loved ones enjoying plate after plate. I haven’t mastered the ricotta pie yet, but I do have a knack for scones and bread..thanks to the KAF Baker’s Companion my mom bought me a few years ago. Thanks Mom!

  56. Nancy J

    Circa 1956, when I was 6 yrs old I was “helping” my Mom stir up some batter with the electric mixer. Somehow my long ponytail got wound up in the beaters and pulled my face down to the bowl! Cool as a cucumber my Mom extricated me from the mixer and off we went to the shower and a good shampoo. Not for years did I know how guilty my Mom felt for letting that happen. Here’s to all the Mom’s who handle those kitchen accidents with aplomb while their hearts beat double time.
    I love to bake, as did my mother, and I still have a very healthy respect for my electric mixer.

  57. joanne opdahl

    I was 19 when my Mom passed and I miss her everyday. When I am in the kitchen she is always with me because she shared loved when she cooked. She didn’t care if we spilled flour or if the cake was slight off kilter when it was finished she always reflected joy no matter what we created. I was blessed twice because my mother in law who truly became my Mom during our past 45 years of marriage continuted the love of cooking and I learned so much from her over the years. Making lefse every Christmas Eve and having big family get togethers for Thanksgiving and birthdays. This August will be their 70th wedding anniversary with another 3 day family reunion and lots of cooking. This past Christmas Mom created a cookbook for all of us of her favorite recipes, some from 50 years ago when they lived on a farm in Minn. Thanks you for allowing me to express what I have carried around in my heart for years , I appreciate what both of my Moms did for me and I continue to love cooking in my kitchen and sharing with family and friends.

  58. carol stephens

    This is a grandmother story….and it’s about an inspiring day for my grandson Zachary. We made pasta with a machine and King Arthur Pasta flour. We were mixing and then came passing the dough through the pasta machine to make lasagna. He pushed it carefully through watching every little step he did. Then I said to him …”So Zachary do you want linguini or fetucini (showing him premade boxes). He said linguini and so then came the fun. We picked up the lasagna noodle. I showed him how he needed to hold the pasta to feed the machine. I reminded him he had to catch it so we could dry properly and not get it all tangled. He put his hand in position. Eyes watching very carefully as the linguini to be began its journey through the machine. As soon as it was drapping over his little hand… he look at the linguini and then looked up at me and quickly said, “incredible” … it’s incredible. We finished the process. Later after the liguini was cooked, drained and plated, I said to him. Do you want to grate the cheese? He wondered what I meant as he asked if I had the parmesan shaker. ” Oh when you are here, we grate the cheese fresh.” I handed him a hand held grater, parmesan cheese and showed him the motion to grate. Again enthralled by the procedure, he looked up to me and said, ” I know what I’m going to be! As he proceeded to say, “a cook.” A day I will not forget. He is 6 1/2 years young. Our project today was potato bread and finish pulla dough for at his next visit, he will learn how to braid the dough.

  59. Patty Komarek

    It’s been almost 30 years since my Mom and I baked together. She passed away when I was only 29 years old. Between the age of 10 and 28 she taught me everything I know (almost) about baking. Her pie crusts were the envy of every one of my aunts, her cakes were heavenly, and we made hundreds of cookies at Christmas every year.

    My daughter and I have baked together since she was little, carrying on the tradition. She’s becoming a better baker than I at only 28!

    Yesterday we threw a bridal shower for one of her friends, and we topped each home-made coconut cupcake with a candied viola from my garden. It brought back a sweet memory of my mother showing me how to candy the violets from our yard. Where would we be without our wonderful Mothers?

  60. Sherry

    My mom use to bake me a princess Birthday cake that the cake was the doll’s skirt and a real Barbie doll was put in the middle. Mom showed me than how fun it is to bake so I continue to enjoy it today. I even have entered some cake competitions at local and state fairs.
    But, the memory that stands out the most in my mind in my mom’s baking experience is when she made 400 cupcakes for a school bake sale because she could not find people to bake them at a short notice and she wheeled them to my elementary school in my wagon. She left without giving her name and in the school newsletter was a thank you to the person who dropped off the cupcakes.
    My mom still enjoys baking today at 79 years old. Without her teaching me the fun of baking I would of not enjoyed it as much as I do today. Thanks mom!

  61. Mary

    My mother wasn’t much of a baker, the few times she did, it was a mix or some recipe off the back of a box of Bisquick. My grandmother on my mother’s side was. She baked her own cakes, pies, bread and donuts as well. I remember visiting her, and while she was pretty much the quiet type, when she was cooking or baking, she’d tell me stories about the past, like during the depression, when my grandfather was away working on a crew building an air strip (they were farmers), and she was alone with the children trying to hold the farm together. Or about the various adventures my mother, aunts and uncles got into when they were young (my mother being chased by a bear) My favorite were her crullers, rolled in cinnamon sugar. I enjoyed reading Marbelle’s recollections about her grandmother’s mixing bowls. It made me remember my grandmother’s, there were three of them in different sizes, a tan color with a brown stripe around each.

    When it comes to my daughter, she was very interested in cooking as a small child. She wanted to pitch in every time I was in the kitchen. Mixing, flipping pancakes or grilled cheese sandwiches. Each Christmas I’d bake a variety of cookies, and I’d arrange for her to help, whether it was rolling a piece of her own dough, putting a layer of jam or nuts (she always loved helping to make Magic Bars, or as we called them when I was growing up, Hello Dollies). She lost interest by the time she became a teenager, but now that she’s in her twenties, she has become interested again. I’ve enjoyed helping her to get back into the swing of things again, not to be afraid to get in there with a mixing or cooking spoon or spatula.

  62. Jeanettte Albertson

    My favorite baking story, is also a Mother Day story. My 3 children at time were ages 15, 10, 5 and they were going to make mothers day breakfast. They made eggs and bacon and what was they thought was cinnamon coffeecake. The coffecake I found with the first bite was made with cummin and not cinnamon. The kids had grab the bottle that looked like cinnamon and put 3 tsp in. They looked so sad, I immediately said Wow what an awesome new twist to a coffecake, One with Tex-Mex flavor! They still to this day laugh about The mothers’ day breakfast with the cummin cake. They are now 33, 28, 23 and they came home and made Mom breakfast today what an awesome day. No, we didn’t have cummin cake, we had love and laughter and eggs medley and hashbrown cassarole, biscuits and gravy, sausages. Wow!

  63. Gary Hypes

    My Mom never baked anything in her life, but my wife is a good baker. In 1982, I was suddenly out of work, with a wife and 5 kids to feed. As a way of pinching pennies, I asked my wife to teach me how to bake homemade bread. I not only learned how to make bread; kneading the dough was a wonderful way of working out the frustrations of being without a job. I became an avid home baker and have been ever since — primarily breads, but rolls, pastries, cookies, etc. A wonderful hobby that brings praise and thanks from everyone with whom I share my baked goods.

  64. Tracy

    My favorite memory of baking with my mom took place when I was about 13 yrs. old. We were baking a chocolate cake and my mother was letting me run the hand-held mixer. She was standing there watching me when she noticed the cord of the mixer was touching one of the burners on the stove and the burner was on. She said, “OH! The cord!”. So I jerked my hand up to get the cord off the burner, forgetting that the mixer was in that hand, and said mixer was just in a bowl of chocolate cake mix and said mixer was still running when I lifted it up over my head. Chocolate cake mix splattered all over her, all over me, all over the kitchen and even made it to the ceiling. We took one look at each other and started cracking up! It was awesome!!!
    Happy Mother’s Day Mom! I love you!

  65. Doris

    Mom doesn’t bake because there are no oven in China. Chinese steam most of their snacks and goodies. When I first got married and moved to Oklahoma there weren’t any Dim Sum restaurant around. My husband and I used to drive down to Dallas to get our fix. So when Mom came to help me when I had my first baby, she would show me how to make all the Chinese snacks and I would measure everything and write them down. I am so thankful that Mom is such a good cook. I am the only one among all my siblings who can make all these goodies.Now I am teaching my daughter how to make these snacks so she can enjoy them too. Hopefully she will pass this onto the next generation.

  66. Mrs. Hamlet

    My only baking memory of my mother isn’t actually MY memory. It’s a memory of a story she used to tell about me before she died. When I was very young, three or four, she was in the kitchen, baking, when the phone rang and she went to answer it. While she was talking on the phone, she heard me saying “It’s snowing, it’s snowing!” When she came back to the kitchen, she found me….and ten pounds of flour….everywhere. The most adorable mess ever, apparently.

    She died just a few years later, but I’ve apparently inherited her talent in the kitchen, even though she wasn’t around to teach me. Hooray for cooking genetics!

  67. cheryl

    One Christmas season, my sister (whose 5 years younger than I am) and I were left home alone on a Sunday afternoon. We lived in an American four-square with the typical breakfast room and back porch off of the kitchen. We decided to make Christmas cookies–and thought green cookies would be really grand. I think we got the recipe from one of my Mom’s Woman’s Day magazines. We thought mom would be so proud and surprised that we could do this by ourselves. Things went well enough–until we tried to roll the cookies–which were about the consistency of thin cooked cereal. Things kept getting worse by the minute–and we were fairly sure that we would be in trouble for wasting eggs and butter. So, we decided to hide the evidence. It was winter in Western NY–and snow was deep enough that we couldn’t get to the trash barrel. So, we threw the deep green dough out one of the side windows in the breakfast room. It was on the back of the house after all–and no one went there in the winter. By Spring, we thought it would blend in with the grass. We tossed the dough and cleaned the kitchen.
    Things went well enough until our neighbor called to ask why the side of our house was green. Oops! My mom was not pleased but the punishment was to learn how to roll dough–and keep rolling until we knew how to handle it–and what to do if it was mush or if it was crumbly. We probably would never have learned the art of rolling pastry (or cookies) if it weren’t for our “punishment”. Of course–after each rolling we had to sit with cocoa and cookies to “test” and to be sure we got it just right.

  68. Mags

    Awww PJ…what great family photos and a wonderful Mother’s Day tribute to your Mom. I went a different route this year and tributed myself…lol. I spent Friday teaching my son that the holy trinity is different from the Holy Trinity. He learned a few lessons on how to cook from scratch and I got to spend some wonderful time with him.


    Love your post! I know what you mean – “All day. Just me.” And what a great assortment of things he learned. Thanks for sharing, Mags- PJH

  69. Christine Tyma DeGrado

    My mother baked twenty double batches of the world’s best brownies, with frosting and colored sprinkles, for my wedding reception nearly 30 years ago. They were served on great big platters and they disappeared fast. All the guests said it was the best wedding cake they’d ever had. Sorry, King Arthur, but you could learn a thing or two about brownies from my mom!

  70. Cindy

    I am creating many baking memories with all my grandchildren. it is so important. They are the special times when I can be one to one with them. I hope so much they will remember those times. From chocolate chip cookies to cupcakes their creations with me are so special and tasty.

  71. Sandi

    I grew up baking with my mother, sniffing and tasting all the spices and flavorings, working dough, baking cookies and stirring pots.
    One of the best memories was making pizza together. We would mix and knead the dough. After letting it rise, Mom would give me my own piece to form on my very own pizza pan. She also made certain I had my own little loaf pan for breads.
    I owe my love of all things food to my mom. Now my husband and I are in our fifth year of full-time bakery ownership and our children are learning many of the same things, just on a bigger scale. My mom has been gone for many years, but she would be so thrilled to see what her grandkids are able to do now…all because she took the time to include me in her baking and cooking endeavors. Thanks, Mom!

  72. Kim

    Growing up, my mom was baking all the time. Whenever we would come home from school, she had batches of cookies baking. I can remember not appreciating until much later the time and effort she put in. We begged, “why can’t we buy some store bought cookies and cakes like twinkies and stuff like that”. After all, that is what the other kids had. We would trade people at school for their store bought items because she baked so often it was the norm for us. Later on we realized just how silly it was to want that nasty store bought stuff over her delicious homemade goodies.

    Through watching her bake, she would teach lessons, one favorite phrase she would always use was, “1/4 pound is a half a cup” when talking about measuring butter. That phrase has stayed with me and I would say it anytime I was baking with my daughter. Now, my daughter who turned 18 recently said “I love that saying it helps me remember how much a stick of butter is.” And so it goes onto a new generation. I have taken on her love of baking and I absolutely love to bake for my extended family. I am always in charge of the desserts for my family gatherings. I come from a family of 10, so I always bake a lot. I was paid the highest compliment recently when my mom (who as I’ve said is a wonderful baker) called ME for advice on a recipe. That’s when I knew I was a real baker!

    Thanks Mom for sharing your love of baking and Happy Mother’s Day to you and all the Mom’s out there!

  73. Paula Bourgeois

    My mother was a great cook and exceptional baker. Her pies were great. She died when I was six but I remember when I was little and had hooping cough I begged her to make me a cherry pie. She informed me compassionately that I wouldn’t be able to keep it down. I insisted and she relented. She was right but I ate every bite between trips.

  74. Mary Ann Chmura

    My daughter Chris was 7 months pregant and we both decided that we would make gingerbread people for our family and friends for Christmas. As we rolled and cut and bake our wonderful creations somehow we were never closer as we laughed at how misshappened each one became. They were totally inedible and underappreciated but the memory of that day is golden to me.

  75. Sue E. Conrad

    My mom was an only child who was never allowed in the kitchen while growing up, so she was totally self taught! Undaunted, she made all the bread and rolls for our family (four children, my dad, and her mother-in-law). Come Easter, she made the the hot cross buns – dozens and dozens – to be eaten at church after sunrise service. At Christmastime, the speciality was suet pudding that was given out to friends and neighbors, even the postman!!! Not for the calorie conscious, but absolutely delicious when eaten warm with hard sauce!!! Her best gift was allowing us children to help her in the kitchen, a pleasure she had been denied as a child. Even the neighbor children were allowed in on the fun! She also was a great cook and, in addition, made jams, jellies, preserves – even mincemeat! – as well as canning the produce from our backyard veggie garden. My love of cooking was begun at home and honed in the cooking portion of 7th grade Home Ec. My daughters all love to cook; the oldest even has her own home bakery business. The grandchildren are also being taught the love of cooking. And that suet pudding? I still have the recipe in my mom’s own handwriting!! She’s been gone for 30 years, but her legacy lives on.

  76. Sharon

    I wanted so much to cook with my mother, but she had no patience for “kids in the kitchen”. She didn’t bake bread or pies, but made fabulous waffles and cinnamon rolls. She died when I was just 19. As a young mother, I was determined that my girls would know how to cook, and today, when I talked to my 12 year old granddaughter, she was making a cake and fondant that she had made herself! When I see her in two weeks, we are going to bake bread together. I can’t wait!

  77. Erika

    I can never recall my mother telling me that I was in the way in the kitchen. On the contrary, when she stood at the counter with a big bowl, she gave me a little bowl. A little bit of everything that went into the big bowl went into the little bowl, I stirred with my favorite wooden spoon, and learned how to bake. The self-same spoon is currently in my apartment kitchen. By the time I was twelve, Mom had decided that my pie crust and biscuits were better than hers and that was my job, while her custards and stir-fry beat mine hands-down any day.
    As I grew upwards, Mom and I only had more fun together in the kitchen. We explored new cuisines, shared new cookbooks…and now the learning goes both ways as we share ideas and meals with each other. Though we live far apart, my parents and I talk on the phone nearly every day and, indeed, a common question is still “So, what did you make for dinner?”

  78. Trisha

    These comments are really helpful to me. Sometimes I feel like I spend too much time baking and that I am crazy for baking whatever thing my 4 1/2 year old son has on his mind. (Last week we made ice cream cake for my birthday, and he was very proud of it.)

    Here I can see the baker he might become.

  79. JL

    My in the kitchen Mom moments? where do I start? The best times spent with my mom and then years later with my son were spent in the kitchen baking together. My earliest memory of baking with my mom was when I was about 5. She was baking pies for a holiday, I don’t recall which one and I guess that doesn’t really matter. She wrote the entire baking lesson in my baby book so I know I didn’t imagine it. We were baking lattice crust cherry pies! After that it seems we were always in the kitchen baking and as my brothers were born we spent more and more time in the kitchen baking keeping up with their sweet tooths (teeth?). Between them and my dad my mom and I baked at least once a day each. Cup cakes, fruit stick, cakes, pies, doughnuts, gingerbread from Grandma’s recipe you name it we did it. then when I got married and had a son of my own his very first time helping my bake something was a birthday cake for me! lol He wanted me to bake myself a birthday cake and I told him you don’t bake your own birthday cake…at three years old he insisted he could do it…so…I supervised of course, but allowed him to measure and break eggs and mix it all himself. I did the oven stuff of course so he wouldn’t get burned. Allowed him to go at it with the frosting and I gave him sprinkles so he could decorate. That was the most beautiful cake I had ever laid eyes on because he had made it “himself”. He’s now 35 and he still bakes my birthday cake for me. We had many holidays of baking in between also…he’s always been interested in baking and cooking. I turned out to be a chef and he teaches his girlfriend how to cook. It’s been a wonderful life filled with happy memories of baking. oh and as a PS I can say I have had my grandson in the kitchen with me…helping to decorate cupcakes!!

  80. Pamela Moore

    My mother was a perfectionist at everything, especially in the kitchen; she still is. When I was growing up, the few times that she would let us in the kitchen was when she baked cakes and some candies. She would let me watch her put the ingredients in the mixer and watch them being mixed together, knowing I was waiting to lick the bowl. Most of her cakes were made from scratch, along with the icing. Even though she would not let me or my sisters help, I learned so much just by watching the steps and procedures like making sure the cake was cooled before icing, making sure that things were set (like her divinity candy), etc.

    Even though I am not quite the perfectionist in the kitchen as she, I have found myself doing a few of the things that she always did when I bake.

  81. Jeanette Kauffman

    My mother was born in Liverpool, England and came to this country after she married my father. She had been a cook on the estate called Frankby, which was owned by a member of a family who was connected with Cunard Lines. Momma showed me many cooking techniques that I still use today. As a child, I would watch her make pies and when she was forming them, I would be given a bit of crust. That was the time that got the look and feel of the dough as it should be. With my little piece of dough, I would make what I called a “nothing pie”. It would be baked along with the rest. Even without a filling, it was delicious!

  82. FRAN S

    My first baking memory with my Mom was baking a mile high apple pie in the fall. She was not much of a baker so we’d call up her grandmother and ask for her input. She’d always say if you think you have enough sugar on the apples, add some more.
    I was the first girl after three boys so I learned very early that if I made them sweet treats I’d stay on their good side, and later on it was handy to impress their friends. We never had store bought goodies so if I wanted a sweet treat; which I always did and still always do; I’d have to bake it myself.
    I remeber getting an easy bake oven when I was a little girl and I got my first cook book when I turned nine in 1969. I still have that Betty Crocker book and the page for peanut butter cookies has pulled loose and is badly stained, but it is still useful to this day.
    My darling husband bought my the KAF Bakers Companion for mothers day this year. I was so delighted and am thoroughly enjoying it. I’ve been eyeing it up for years now and I’m sure I will enjoy it as long as I have enjoyed my Betty Crocker.
    I made the coconut filled lemon bundt cake from the recent blog this weekend. We met my son’s girlfriend’s family for the first time and I brought the cake along and it was a big hit. I am hoping that I can someday teach my future daughter in law how to bake and cook. My boys know the basics but don’t have too much need as I am still doing it all and spoiling them.

  83. LB

    My mother was a wonderful baker. Her work area was to the left of the
    refrigerator. I spent a lot of time on the refrigerator. Now she would
    probably be locked up for child abuse or neglect, but I survived with no
    mishap. I’m now 61. I liked it up there because it was warm from the motor
    on the refrigerator. Years later we would talk of me on the fridge. She
    told me she always had the worry that I would spit on her project. I tell
    you, it NEVER crossed my mind. I still love to bake.

  84. Jenn

    It was my mother’s birthday, and I wanted so badly to make her a cake. I was barely old enough to reach the counter, but with a step stool I got access to everything I needed. Mom had taught me how to bake cakes, but we hadn’t got to the frosting creation lesson. I think I was about 7 yrs old, and wanted to surprise her. I mixed up the cake and baked it fine, however when it came to the frosting recipe, it called for confectioner’s sugar. Not knowing there was a difference, I used regular table sugar. Of course it never came out right, and I was so scared of admitting that I had wasted ingredients, so I dumped the frosting into an empty coffee can, put a lid on it and went out to the yard and buried it. We lived on a farm, so while mom was outside working in the garden, I was able to get through all of this. I didn’t tell her about the frosting part until later years, and then she just laughed about it all. She is a great mom, and she would have understood even back then, and just showed me how to make it, but i was too afraid to admit my failures. A lot of growing up has come out of that one can of sugar frosting! (I wonder if I could dig it up nowadays and see what it turned out to be?)

  85. Janey

    My mother and both grandmothers are phenomenal cooks, so I have been tooling around in the kitchen since I was four or five years old. I always had the most admiration for the things they could do, but it wasn’t until I got older that I really started to appreciate them…

    I don’t remember what the occasion was. I was working on something or other and discovered we were out of buttermilk. Mom showed me how to make it myself with a tablespoon of vinegar (or lemon juice!). “But won’t it be different?” I asked anxiously.
    “No, it’ll be just fine. Everything doesn’t have to be just perfect.”
    That was some of the best advice I’ve ever gotten. I am still a super stressed-out ultra-perfectionist today, but I realize now that I don’t have to be, and it’s okay not to follow the recipe and improvise a little. Thank you, Mom. It means the world to me.

  86. Stew Hagerty

    When I was about 13, I committed to making something for our Sunday School Bake Sale. I spent hours looking through all of my mom’s cookbooks, until I decided on my very favorite of all baked confections, the Bavarian Cream Filled Cream Puff. Now I had helped my mom, grandmother, and my great-grandma cook all my life so I was fully confident that I could make these. I told my mom I was ready to start baking. She set up the mixer and made sure I had plenty of flour, butter, eggs, and sugar. She then headed off to the store with my grandmother. I got to work right away. I measured everything perfectly; sifted when indicated; separated, whipped, mixed, and divided per the recipe. I baked cooled down, split, and filled. When all was done, I had 4 dozen of the best looking and best tasting, if I do say so myself, Creampuffs ever to grace a baking sheet. It was just as I was finishing that my mom came back. I proudly tried showing her the magnificent gastronomical morsels that I had so expertly created. Nevertheless, for some reason she seemed distracted. She failed to notice the exquisitely browned exterior of my puffy creations. She totally ignored the decadent vanilla Bavarian Cream filling. She didn’t even pay any attention at all to the artful dusting of confectioner’s sugar crowning each luscious treat. Nope, for some reason that still eludes me to this day, she was not at all interested in my culinary masterpieces. Instead, she seemed to be singularly focused on my ever-so-slightly less than perfect cleanliness. Well, that and her bizarre claim that she had no clean pots, pans, or trays left in the kitchen. To this day, she makes up stories about it, claiming (obviously in jest) that she still finds flour in places. Personally, I just think she was jealous because of how well they turned out; but no, she would rather make some ridiculous “disaster area” statement. The oddest part is that, even though my adoring public just raved about those Creampuffs (in fact all 4 dozen sold in less than an hour), she never let me make them again. I never have figured out why…

  87. Kelly Rainwater

    My Mom was a young mom, only 17 when she had me and she really know much about baking. She tells stories of her own early baking experiences: making biscuits that didn’t rise and her Mother-in-Law coming to visit, and saying “oh–sugar cookies!” and biting into one before my Mom could stop her. Her earliest failures didn’t stop her from continuing and turning out the best Cracklin Bran cereal bar cookies (we’ve lost the recipe!) or Salad Dressing Cakes made with cocoa and Miracle Whip, or homemade breads or dozens of other things.

    My earliest baking memories are of my Mom tracing around my hand on rolled-out cookie dough when I was only 2 or 3 years old. I have no idea what kind of dough it was, but I loved those cookies the best.

    My own first baking experience completely by myself was when I was around 8 or 10. I wanted to make my own birthday cake, so Mom gave me full reign of the kitchen. She had a copy of Betty Crocker’s Boys and Girls cookbook and I chose to make a Christmas Tree Cake since my Birthday is in December. The recipe said to bake the cake in 9×11 dish and cut a triangle out of the middle, by cutting from each corner, at an angle and meeting in the center of the opposite end. That was supposed to be the bottom of the first layer. The two remaining smaller pieces, which were sort of triangles were to be turned over, with the long flat sides pressed together, to form the top layer of the cake. The problem was that the cake rose too much in the middle and was a little lopsided, to boot so the top layer had a huge gulf/gap in the middle. It probably need about 2 cups or more of frosting just to fill the gap to created a smooth, flat surface. I just had one box of Jiffy frosting mix, which I had colored green and there wasn’t enough to fill the huge gulf in the middle of the top layer, especially since crumbs kept coming up and getting into the frosting, so I had to use more to cover up the crumbs. I ran out of frosting mix so I stopped in the middle of making it, walked all the way to the grocery store by myself, bought two more boxes of frosting……

    I made one box, but couldn’t remember how many drops of food coloring I used, so it came out a slightly different shade of green. And it wasn’t enough frosting, anyhow. So I made the 3rd box. Same problem: different color of green. But that did the trick. It filled the gulf between the two smaller pieces of cake, forming the top triangle layer of the cake. But with so much frosting, in three different shades of green, it didn’t look anything like the picture-perfect Christmas Tree in the cookbook. It just looked like a great big huge mound of green frosting with sprinkles on the platter! It was horrible, ugly, unappetizing, to say the least, but Mom put candles in it and served it when the family came over for the birthday celebration. We still joke about the “Christmas Tree Cake” all the time, 35+ years later.

    But the fact that she let me make it from start to finish and fix the problem all by myself was probably one of the best baking lessons she could have ever given me: just because you follow a recipe doesn’t mean that it’s going to turn out as you expect. There are factors you might not ever consider that will surprise you, but you think through your problem and try to find a solution. And even if it doesn’t turn out as you expected, so what? It will still taste great. You just laugh and move on and the next time you remember to make more frosting than you think you’ll need and count the drops of food coloring!

  88. Angela

    Ah baking with family. We never did it really. One of my grandmother’s was never allowed in the kitchen (her husband was a fanastic cook but not a baker); the other was the mother of 7 and didn’t have the time or the room for grandkids under foot. (Not an avid baker either with 1 cake recipe, one biscuit recipe and one bread recipe.) My mother worked 40-50 hour work weeks on her feet and so never really viewed cooking as a hobby. Me I started baking for a school project in the 5th grade and never stopped and mom always supported me in this. One Mother’s day when I was 13 I stayed up all night to make her croissants from scratch when I had never attempted anything like it and then fell asleep before breakfast and she cleaned up the kitchen.

    Other than that I made chocolate chip cookies once with my 12 year old nephew. I didn’t realize he didn’t know the difference between t and T until he put 2 tablespoons of baking powder in some cookies! I ended up scooping too much out and we had trays of 4 inch cookies about a milimeter deep.

    What my mother did teach me was there’s no shaming in using a mix especially if you use homemade icing or adding things to the mix; that rice crispy treats are the fastest sellers at bake sales; that canned biscuits make pretty tasty donuts when fried and coated in powdered sugar; and when all else fails throw it out and order take out. This year for mother’s day she got devil’s food cupcakes made with a mix with extra butter and a cup of melted chocolate added; 6 delicately decorated with hand piped pink roses on white lace and 18 with a big swirl of pastel pink and white stripy icing from tossing all the leftover pink and white together and then topped with a handleful of mini chocolate chips. Guess which people loved more?

  89. CG Phillips

    My mom was a wonderful cook and baker. Childhood memories include bread fresh from the oven, Sunday and holiday dinners, themed birthday cakes and special touches for the certain holidays (like mashed potates tinted pink for Valentine’s day). All of the kids enjoyed helping Mom make cookies from my grandmother’s recipe. Mom had cookie cutters for every occasion! I am sure she taught both my sister and I how to cook. I don’t remember cooking many things on my own. But I know I absorded much because I knew how to cook certain things when I got out on my own. I tend to try different things because Mom was always experimenting. However of the two of us, my sister learned more from Mom because she too is an excellent cook and baker, having mastered Mom’s homemade rolls – always a meal time staple. Mom still enjoys cooking, but at 89, has slowed down considerably. Still, her cooking and baking are still in demand, just as they were when I was growning up!

  90. Ricardo Neves Gonzalez - Petrópolis, R.J. - BRAZIL

    My Mom was a specialist in pastry treats. And she baked always one of best sweetness pie i´d ever tasted in all my life. Brazil is a country colonizated by Portugueses, and Portuguese pastry was ever richness of egg yolk use. It´s simply to understand. The tradition of Conventual Sweets is spread all over the Portugal and it´s colonies around the world, including Brazil. It´s because on monasteries of catholic church, the nuns used the egg whites in high quantities to starch their clothes and costumes. Then egg yolks were left over in high proportions. The solution was to use that egg yolks remained to create a great varieties of sweet pastries, cakes, pies, using them!! In Portugal and Portuguese countries we call them, DOCES CONVENTUAIS ( sweeties from monasteries )
    Then, the tradition of a pastry rich in egg yolk is common in Portugal and colonies such Brazil. Well, we have a nice coconut tart made with lots of sugar, egg yolks and shreded coconut we LOVE A LOT and we call here in Brazil QUINDIM. My Mom was a specialist in an oversized QUINDIM. We call it QUINDÃO. One of best sweet delicious treats we have here in BRAZIL. My Mom produced it in very small quantities and her QUINDÕES sold-out in just few minutes after they gone to the shelves!!
    A MUST!!!

  91. RitaFz

    I just lost my Mom in Feb. but one of the last thing we did together on Feb. 7th was to watch Ciao Italia together. A PBS show that King Arthur sponcer. We loved that show and shared it all the time.

  92. Lucy

    Officially, I started baking at age two. I have the photo, making my own little oatmeal cookies, flattened by a cup dipped in sugar, in a round cake pan. Still make the same lacy cookies, and i have my mom’s set of cake pans also. I also bake,cook and teach both professionally, stayed close to the tree I guess. My mother was not only a wonderful cook and baker, she was extremely frugal. A true child of the Depression. Her birthday cakes were frosted with meringue icing and her cinnamon rolls had to be put under lock and key before serving. I am so thankful for memories of her christmas baking. I still love fruitcake because hers was so good. When my boys were little I would mix up a huge batch of the simplest bread dough for them to play with on rainy days. They could build a bread fish or dinosaur as big as could fit in our oven. Even if they did not eat it all, it was theirs and they could feed it to the fish in the river near our home in Japan. Now I bake cookies with my grandchildren and we have tea parties together. I feel the most important thing is not what you make with a child, or how fancy it might be; the doing, the shaping, rolling and baking together is priceless and lasts forever.

  93. Sally

    My mother taught us to bake cookies and cakes from an early age. Two of our favorite recipes were her saucepan brownies and saucepan brown sugar brownies. All you needed was a saucepan and a pan to bake them. You started with melting the chocolate, adding the butter, sugar and eggs and then the dry ingredients. Viola, they were done and ready to put in the pan to bake. With the brown sugar brownies you stated with the butter, added the brown sugar, eggs and dry ingredients and again they were ready to bake. We started making double batches because they disappeared so fast. To this day I get raves for my brownies.

    When I went away to college I lived with my grandmother for part of the time and she was always making what she called her applesauce coffee cake. I never asked her for the recipe until after I was married with children and we were visiting. She was so thrilled because she said no one else in the family had ever asked her for the recipe. She wrote it out and gave it to me with two square pans to bake it in. She would cut the butter into the dry ingredients like one would do for pie crust before add the pecans and raisins to the dry ingredients. Then she would heat the applesauce and add the soda to it before mixing it into the dry ingredients. The only change I’ve made is to use some whole wheat flour when I make it. I still have the recipe she wrote out for me and have saved it for my daughter.

  94. Dana

    I have the most wonderful memories of cooking and baking in the kitchen with both grandmothers, my mom and several aunts. As soon as I could stand on a chair, they all let me watch and participate in the process. As with most families, the kitchen is the heart of our home and we all gravitate to this room. Recipes are shared, stories told and there are no shortages of hugs, kisses and laughter! It is so important to me to pass on these feelings and memories to my own grandchildren. My two year old grandson LOVES to measure and pour. He already has his own apron and measuring cups/spoons to use at “Nana’s”. He is fasinated with the appliances in the kitchen and can tell what each one does. Hopefully his little sister will enjoy it, too, when she gets a little older. Of course, there is usually a mess in the kitchen when he helps, but I love every second of it, even the clean up! It is so important that family members spend time together in the kitchen (even working parents can find a few minutes). When all is said and done, who will remember or care that their mom/dad/grandparent kept their home immaculate. We all remember the special memories with our family in the kitchen, though. I hope all the mothers and grandmothers had a fabulous Mother’s Day. I sure did, playing in the sandbox and then barbequeing ribs and making potato salad with my favorite 2 yr old!

  95. Cher

    Although my mom was not big into baking (even though Baker was her maiden name!), she did make the best chocolate chip cookies – those cookies played a vital role in one of the most important life lessons she ever passed on to me.

    I was in third grade and having issues with both a bullying boy and a grouchy bus driver. There was hardly a day I didn’t come home from school crying because of one or the other. In her widsom, she explained that maybe they were acting out because they were unhappy and asked me what we could do to help bring some happiness into their lives.

    Of course, my 8 year old self must have stared at her as if she had six eyes and three noses… She suggested that we make chocolate chip cookies to bring to them. So we did.

    Sure enough, mom was right. They were both surprised by this and it served as a turning point in my interactions with both of them. The bully left me alone and I was one of the few kids to ever get along with the bus driver.

    Eight years later, right before my high school graduation, my bus driver stopped to give me a hug; and with a tear in her eye thanked me for those cookies so long ago…

    As a mother, I can only hope that I occasionally have moments inspired enough to teach my ladies that little bits of kindness (and some home-baking) can go a long way.

  96. Arloa Dahl (Loa)

    Mom baked all our bread when I was young, as well as pies, cookies.She made all our jams, jellies and canned all she could. I started life in the mid 30’s so it was needed. I learned cooking at an early age. I started my kids in the kitchen early and 2 of them took to cooking. Now, I mentor my grand daughter as she works full time and cooks and bakes for her 4.She also has them working with her at cooking and baking. I also worked as the baker in a small cafe in our town for 7 years. As I write this I see the thread of caring and cooking for our families running down through the generations. Mom used tomake heart shaped cinnamon rolls for my lunch box when I started school.The other kids tried to trade for them but I didn’t trade. Loa in Iowa.

  97. Sheila Rapp

    When I re-entered the workforce after being a stay-at-home mom for 12 years, I would call home each day to make sure the kids were okay. My younger daughter would always say she was making pie. She probably thought “a pie a day keeps the doctor away”, however it was just the beginning of her love for baking.
    Today she is a wonderful and loving mom of two. Her Mother’s Day gift to me was delivered by the mail carrier….Povatica. One of her grandmothers was Yugoslavian and a wonderful cook so she has the calling in her genes. It was the best gift because it was truly from the heart and delicious.

  98. Gloria

    My Mom was unlucky in having a Ma (Mother) who only made three dishes, one was goulash. My Mother was never allowed to cook. When my Mother was high school aged, she asked her Ma to make a cake. My Mom was allowed to get the ingredients from the pantry, and then stir the batter. That was all she was allowed to cook before she married my Father. Mom learned to cook when she had a hungry husband, a crying baby and no money. Therefore my Mother structured her life so all 7 of us “kids” learned to cook. If we ever asked to cook she made sure we we allowed to. Mom thinks the time to learn to cook is when you live at home and you can call across the room to get some cooking advice. You also have a lot more people around to eat any thing that does not turn out just right. Mom never made a fuss about the mess we made while we cooked. The first things we learned in the kitchen was how to make a Jiffy cake. Then we made pancakes, waffles, and brownies. She figured if you could make these basics, you could make some a little more advanced. For Christmas one year, I asked for a certain cookbook that I had seen advertised in a magazine. I was about 10 years old at the time. I still have the cookbook. It was a much better gift than another doll! I am so glad to have a Mother that helped us to learn to cook, when we were interested!

  99. Lisa

    Love reading how sooo many mothers inspired their children to learn to cook and/or bake.

    I too had the good fourtune of having a mother who enjoyed devouring cook books and her favorite magazines for new recipies.
    Some of theses new dishes became “keepers” some she never made again. LOL.

    Her Norwegian baked goods were always special.

    When I was itching to get back to work, it was my mothers baking that inspired me to start my online bakery.

    I was thrilled to find this site a few years ago…love and use many products.
    Thank you KAF, and mom for helping me create a delicious company!

  100. KimberlyD

    My dear sweet Mom, god rest her soul (passed away in 2002), I remember as a child, she would send me and my 3 older brother to go pick apples from the farmer next door (he let us) and she would make apple dumplings, or apple crisp or pie, or just hollow out the middle stuff with cinnomon and brown sugar and bake them like that. We use to make cookies together. She taught me how to make a whole Thanksgiving dinner. I cooked one when I was 16 yrs old, and no one died…LOL!

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