Mom’s Kitchen

Casseroles were always her go-to dish,

An economy born of her heart’s favorite wish—

Anything saved us from extra pans,

Yet beauty was served by her gentle hands.

Chili mac, baked spaghetti, or crispy grilled cheese,

Simple comfort she crafted to nourish and please.

She loved to feed family, gathered and sweet,

And one of her favorites was Spanish meat.

A treasure passed down from her mother before,

Like meatloaf unraveled and scattered once more.

It filled up our table, a weekly delight,

A honest, good supper to end every night.

But savory dinners were just half the art—

Cookies and cakes held a place in her heart.

She’d sample each batch as the mixing was done,

Stealing a bite just to test every one.

Growing up raised on the food from her stove

Is a memory wrapped in a blanket of love.

Though I only can master a dish, maybe three,

Her handed-down recipes stay close to me.

With Midwestern heart and a soul full of grace,

She turned simple ingredients into a place—

Where everything coming right out of her aisle

Was the best comfort food by a country mile.