The Way to a Man’s Heart is through His Wife’s Kitchen

Photo Credit: Melodramababs/Creative Commons

They say the way to a man’s heart is through his wife’s kitchen. Or is it the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach? (I’ve heard it both ways.) I’ve not tested this theory intentionally, but I do believe there’s some truth to those statements.

I mean, what normal, red-blooded man doesn’t like a warm slice of bread baked fresh from the oven? Or an apple, cherry, or peach pie that’s made from scratch? Or my personal fave: chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes with thick, cream gravy, and green beans seasoned with a little salt pork and cooked to perfection?

I know in our own home, as I rattle the dishes in the kitchen, and the tantalizing smells begin to permeate the house, my crew comes running. Well, not literally (but sometimes).

Often, their motives are more subtle than that. Hubby will wander in for a glass of iced tea.

Child one, when he’s home, is a bit more vocal. “Yum. When will it be ready?”

And child two will saunter in, glance out the window, and pretend not to notice or care what Momma’s cooking.

Honestly, sometimes I think I could serve them an old shoe garnished with a little parsley and they’d think it was deelish. I’m very blessed. My family is so appreciative no matter what I fix.

Last night, it was sausage and sauerkraut. And child two would rather eat a toad than sauerkraut, so I also made side dishes of baked chicken and potatoes. (Can you say pampered?) …And of course, for ambience, the little lights were twinkling on my baker’s rack.

In Book One of a series I’m creating, food plays an important role in the story. As far as the main characters go, it’s more of what it stands for than just the mere preparation process: heritage, culture, comfort, memories, independence, and love.

There’s a bakery involved and it becomes a bone of contention. That’s just one slice of the pie. Of course, there’s a main character who’s very citified and she must adjust to a new town and a new way of living after ditching her previous life of prestige. The hero then challenges the heroine’s privileged, blue blooded upbringing and her approach to life. And when a few toddlers are thrown into the mix, the fun really begins!

If you remember the old television series, The Waltons, you may recall, often, Grandma and Grandpa, Momma and Daddy, and the entire Walton brood gathered around the farmer’s-style table for the evening meal. They asked a blessing on their food and talked about the day and what was new in each others’ lives.

For them, the supper hour wasn’t really about the food. It was more of a bonding experience. A time to share. A time to love.

Call me sentimental. I admit it.

Call me old-fashioned. Yep, I am a bit. 

Call me a romantic, a traditionalist, a dreamer. And I’d have to say… guilty as charged.

I’m guilty, guilty, guilty!

Now. Want to know what’s for supper tonight? Something tasty, tempting, and tantalizing served with a big, ol’ side dish of love!

Dinner’s at six.

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How do you spell “love” in your family?

Do you have certain habits/traditions that you observe with those you love?

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How our characters benefit from the family supper hour: (Click to Tweet)

This is possibly the best bonding experience for today’s family: (Click to Tweet)

Photo Credit: Melodramababs/Creative Commons

Happy Friday!

Blessings Always,