Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Soy Sauce Spaghetti

I would like to remember my mom as a shining saint that never did wrong. It's a lot easier to imagine her that way but where is the fun in that? Of course, I will argue to the death (too soon?) that she was the best cook ever. Better than Paula Deen, Julia Childs, and the Pioneer Woman. One quick glance at me and I am living proof that my mother never made  a dish I refused. But it's all of my mother's foibles and idiosyncrasies that make me miss her the most.

There would be the time she made me spaghetti and since we were too poor to buy jarred sauce she used packets of ketchup. Okay, I lied, she was just too lazy to go buy sauce but pulling the poverty card always works. And when I told her friends about it, she gave me a dirty look. So the next time she made spaghetti she used soy sauce and Sriracha. My older would come home and tell her how delicious it was and from then on that was her spaghetti specialty. I know the Wifey would throw up (literally) if she ever had to experience this crazy concoction since she is part Italian but I will admit, I do miss me some soy sauce spaghetti.

Then there would be the time she would try to make hot wings because we were too poor to buy Wingstop (this is not a fabrication, despite it's deliciousness, Wingstop isn't cheap). And instead of deep frying the wings to a crispy golden brown, she hard boiled the wings in a chili garlic/Sriracha mixture. But then, once again, my older brother came home and informed her how delectable the wings were and she would continue to make them. And then there was the time she learned how to make cheesecake and she made one every single day for an entire month. Luckily no soy sauce was involved.

Despite the random hit or miss meals she would make, I miss dinner with the family. I was always in charge of setting the table and refilling everyone's rice bowls, and we would get to listen to my parents bitch about work. My dad would smack his food and we would have a decent, uninterrupted family dinner.

Now my dinner conversations are dependent on how often the waitress comes by our table to check up on us.

As the Baby approaches her first year, I sometimes think about how she would react to some of the food my mom made. And honestly, there is no doubt in my mind that the Baby would go crazy for some soy sauce spaghetti. The Wifey on the other hand....


  1. You have an older brother??? Where have I been? And I think soy sauce and sriracha sound pretty good on spaghetti...

  2. Ummm yeah. I think he was a senior when you were a freshman at GHS. He was only the starting quarterback.