Who is “the Chef’s sister”?

Well that would be me - Liz. I am, quite literally, a chef’s sister. I work in construction but have a background in non-profit fundraising, and professional makeup artistry. I have never been a waitress, line cook or had any kind of professional culinary training. I don’t consider myself a “real” cook at all. That’s my brother’s job. He’s the one who graduated Cum Laude from Culinary School. He criticizes how I cut things and organize my kitchen - and that’s ok. I may not know what I’m doing, but I know what tastes good.

He’s not the only culinary whiz-kid in our family. My mom was the absolute master. She was one of those rare people who could not only navigate the “pinch of this, pinch of that” mercurial cooking style, but also the extreme precision required for baking and pastries. Her cheesecakes were auctioned at charity events, her eggs benedict brunches would garner crowds too big for our house, and people would sit cross legged on the floor asking for extra dollops of her homemade hollandaise. I, however, was always relegated to salad duty or some other sort of easy-to-assemble dish. I’m not a bad cook - there were just two people in our family who were WAY better.

Unfortunately, we lost my mom in 2018 and along with missing her every single day, I miss her food. Her food was straight love, warming you from the inside out. Her home and arms were always open to anyone wanting a hot bowl of inexplicably creamy minestrone, a gooey yet also perfectly crunchy chocolate chip cookie, melt-in-your-mouth pork tenderloin with mustard apricot sauce, and lemon cake so soft and fluffy it felt like eating lemon air.

The night before her funeral, my brother and I couldn’t sleep (understandable). We ended up staying up until dawn - him baking some of her best cookie recipes, along with some of his own and I stared at the stand mixer trying to figure out how the hell she made her lemon cake. I kinda just went with instinct and from what I hear - it tasted just like hers.

This blog is my tribute to her, and a celebration of our family. I feel closest to her when I’m in my kitchen. I can hear her whisper in my ear, I feel her guiding my fingers when I dip them into the salt cellar. Even though my brother is the one with the professional training, I know she would be pretty excited that I was involving myself more in my own kitchen. I try to make recipes that are as tasty as her food, as full of love - but maybe a little more accessible for all us “working in construction with no culinary background” types.

Enjoy, eat well and as my mom always said “Love ya!”