Which food, when you eat it, instantly transports you to childhood?

At the age of 5, my mother took a full-time job, and my father of course worked full time also in Detroit–an hour drive each way, so I was left alone a lot growing up. The foods I think about from childhood are the Appian Way pizza kits. I got quite good at mixing the dough with warm, not hot, water, and putting the other items on top of the sauce.

I once made a special one for one of my older brothers’ birthdays. I spelled out his name with cheese. I showed it too him before baking and he smiled, yet after baking, the cheese words had melted into a glob of melted bubbling cheese. When it was time to eat, he was heading out the door to hang out with his friends. I still remember thinking, ok–more for me.

I also remember baking egg rolls. They were easy to bake and I had my own routine of eating them. First one bites off a corner, then another. Soon the insides would be cool enough to enjoy. By the time I got to the last few, they were cooled enough to just eat whole. For some reason, I can’t eat them now. I bought some a few months ago and got tired of them fast.

I find it very interesting that when writing about a favorite food or flower, one often winds up writing about people–the memories are connected to people. I remember once my brother Jon, a perfectionist, made a sandwich. It took him half an hour to make it just right. As he sat down on the sofa in the basement to watch TV with me, he hit his funny bone somehow and the sandwich flipped off the plate and landed behind the sofa onto the dusty floor beneath. I laughed so hard I cried. He was so angry. With each curse word that flew from his lips I laughed harder. Brothers can be cruel that way, I guess.

I remember watermelon in the summer also. In Michigan, summers were short and in June and July and August we enjoyed summer foods. I can still remember eating watermelon and listening to a new David Bowie song on the radio–Space Oddity, something like that.

Lastly, I remember spending a week each summer at my grandparent’s home on Torch Lake in northern Michigan. The food I remember is fresh perch. We fished a lot as they lived right on the lake, beautiful. We’d have perch and a vegetable from grandma’s garden and often mashed potatoes.

It’s not so much the food I remember, it’s the connections with people and music that make me smile.