Introduction

My mother hated to cook, but that was understandable. She had eleven kids. She had to cook everyday, three times a day.

People who remember that I never cooked while growing up in Madisonville are shocked to learn that I cook for a living now. Cooking had been the job of my sister under me. She would take care of the kitchen and I would take care of “the house.” You had to do your share, though, which meant sometimes cooking too. My grandmother was a midwife and a registered nurse in New Orleans. When my mother would have her babies, everyone had to fend for themselves until she got back home.