This story was originally published in Heartwarmers of Love. The book now sells for less than $2 on Amazon but who cares? I wrote the story ten years ago in honor of the creator of the finest ham sandwiches – mi madre.
|This book did NOT make the best seller list, I think
I might have been the only one who bought it! No problem!
To the simple observer, it may look like two pieces of bread, a tomato and a couple slabs of lunch meat. But to me, sandwiches made by my mother are a masterpiece, almost suitable for framing.
|Note the craftmanship|
From the time I can remember, I’ve always loved my mom’s sandwiches. When I was a little girl, the only one who could create the ideal ham sandwich was my mommy. I’ve eaten in fancy restaurants, lived overseas and traveled extensively. It’s been proven. The whole world over, there isn’t anybody in this solar system who can make a ham sandwich better than my mom.
Still now, 20 years later, whenever I’m at my mom’s house, if she’s feeling up to it and I’ve timed it just right, she’ll make me a sandwich. We’ll go to the grocery store and I’ll observe her buying the sliced ham. She selects a juicy tomato and scours over the hard rolls searching for the finest one. I’m in awe. How does she magically buy the most delicious, succulent and perfect? They all look the same to me. But never fail, my mom always gets the best!
Back at her house, she nimbly cuts the bread, slices the ripe, red tomato at exactly the right place and delicately places the meat in between. She intuitively adjusts the seasonings, carefully calculates the precise amount of salt and pepper I desire. Masterfully she puts the sandwich together and serves it to me and behold, I am in the presence of culinary greatness.
Had I stood right beside her and done exactly the same steps, I would be able to tell which sandwich my mother made and which was the impostor sandwich. Try as I might, I just can’t make a sandwich like my mom.
|I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who can make this…|
Thankfully, part of the genetic code has been passed on to me. As a mother of three sons, I have developed my own speciality. As basic as a mere sandwich may seem, my children have found an even easier food that only their mom can make perfectly – spaghetti. Not the fancy, robust Italian sauce passed down from generations. We’re talking plain spaghetti noodles – the kind you put in boiling water!
For my boys, it appears that I have been anointed by God to make the world’s best cooked pasta. Mention a spaghetti dinner and the boys dance and prance, it’s a veritable explosion of compliments flying from their lips.
But there is a caveat to this story. Not all meals reach that high standard of perfection…
|My droid alter ego|
in my next post, I’ll tell you about some brownies that will live in infamy and I mean that in a bad way!