Her Story

Birthday Cherry Pie! A yearly tradition.

Birthday Cherry Pie! A yearly tradition.

Greetings! And welcome!

My name is Guinevere Amadeo and I am in love with food. As far back as I can remember, I have gotten a great deal of pleasure spending afternoons in the kitchen, learning new recipes and tweaking old favorites. My mother loved to cook, and I’m certain would have spent more time doing it if her 6 kids and long work hours didn’t keep her days quite so occupied. As such, my childhood meals revolved around a fairly Standard American Diet. Hamburger Helper (Zesty Italian was a family favorite), iceberg lettuce with Catalina dressing, perhaps some canned green beans or frozen creamed spinach in there for good measure. There wasn’t much fresh or particularly colorful in our fridge, but we never went hungry and were generally a happy and healthy bunch.

Some of my favorite childhood memories are of Dad standing in front of the large kitchen griddle on Saturday mornings, flipping dozens of Bisquick pancakes we’d drench in maple syrup from oddly shaped bottles. His syrup, however, was a special treat. Real Canadian maple syrup from a bulbous little bottle the color of silly putty tucked in the refrigerator door, it’s lid crusted with sugar crystals. On special mornings, if we had friends spend the night for instance, we would also get a giant pile of eggs with cheddar cheese and little cubes of ham. We’d look forward to those breakfasts all week!

I also remember with great fondness, the massive pots of chili Dad would make on occasion. This one-pot-wonder (whose special ingredient I only became privy to a couple of years ago) was quite a crowd pleaser, it’s presence requested at every neighborhood potluck. When the aroma of the beef browning filled the kitchen, he’d have a gaggle of kids hovering in anticipation.

Similarly, when mom would make her signature dish- Pork chops simmered in Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup. Excitement among my siblings was at an all time high when those chops were on the menu.

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These days, my kitchen is a different scene. I enjoy weekend trips to the farmer’s market where I gather many of my ingredients (in as many colors as I can find) fresh and seasonal from local growers. I also plant a small garden each year where I grow a good portion of my staple greens and herbs on a tiny plot of land and several mismatched pots on my porch. Kale, collards, rainbow chard, sugar snap peas, several varieties of lettuce, strawberries, and a few hearty herbs spring from the soil, ready for my cooking inspirations. With these I create many meals for one, large portions of greens for our weekly Sunday BBQ tradition, plenty of dinners shared with good friends, and a fair amount of neighborly giveaways.

Also in my kitchen, the audience, rather than a gaggle of children, is my Boston Terrier Miles, always hovering with his complete attention on every move I make (Just in case I drip something, or a shred of carrot flies to the floor.), and his buddy, Appa the Boxer dog, who could care less what I’m cooking unless it’s a large slab of meat. And on any given night, my partner and biggest food fan can be found standing in as sous chef, assembling a salad, grilling some veggies or protein. He is the king of conscious food! My inspiration for creating recipes free of gluten, dairy, soy, eggs, sugar, rice, and an ever growing and-changing list of other foods. Always willing and ready to be fed, he is never critical and makes the best yum sounds when a new dish has hit its mark.

These are some of my very fondest memories. Whirling around the kitchen with my favorite people, the dance that ensues between bodies, stove to sink to oven to cutting board, back to sink. The aromas that come together in perfect harmony. Laughter and glasses of wine and stories shared.

And alone in the kitchen is where I seek refuge. Where the happenings of the day fall away and the rhythmic clap of the knife on cutting board transports me to entirely new times and places. It’s where I explore and become my most expressive and curious self, it’s where I strictly follow recipes and become my most obedient self. Where mood and flavor blend and the most unexpected sensations come alive. Though cooking demands your entire attention, it also rewards with endlessly sensual pleasures. The snap of a crisp leaf of lettuce or stem of asparagus, the cool summer scent fruit releases as it falls open to reveal it’s deep colorful heart, the seductive softness of chocolate beginning to melt from solid to liquid, the tug of sauce against the spoon as it begins to thicken in the pan. Time slows down in the kitchen, offering up an entire universe of small satisfactions.

So, welcome to my kitchen! I hope you find ideas and inspiration here, pleasure and perhaps some entertainment. Thank you for visiting!

For the love of conscious food,

Guinevere

2 thoughts on “Her Story

  1. Guinevere – who knew you are such a polished writer! My mouth is watering by your amazing descriptions. Thanks so much for all your inspiration in helping me tose 40 lbs at the Redmond Athletic Club.

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