Two of my worlds collided when my mom recently gifted me a copy of Terese Allen’s “The Dane County Farmers’ Market Cookbook.”
For more than half of my life, my mom was the primary influence on my relationship with food. She continues to be the cook in my family, hosting the majority of our big holiday gatherings featuring plates, bowls and platters of food that cover every square inch of her kitchen countertops. She and my dad have three refrigerators (four if you count the shed fridge), and they’re always so packed to the gills that when clean-up comes, you know you’ve drawn the short stick when you’re handed a tinfoil-covered item and asked to find a spot for it.
When I moved to the Madison area about a decade ago and started covering the dining scene for Madison Magazine, my understanding of food expanded. I interviewed chefs, tasted new-to-me flavors and listened to personal stories from others’ kitchens that grew my appreciation for food and drink exponentially. I began to see the plate in front of me that symbolized my own food memories and traditions, and started to recognize the plates of other Madison community members appearing next to mine at a giant proverbial table.