Magic Midnight Mayhem

My kitchen is magical. I don't say this statement lightly, as a joke or to incur jealously in others. This statement, is merely a statement of fact in my household. You see, my family is a tad unconventional. Random and unpredictable meal times(one of which I distinctly remember being woken up at midnight to eat dinner) are the norm as well as "guest eaters" that would literally materialize inside our dining room when the food was ready. Not to mention, amidst this chaos of mealtime was the constant bickering between my mother and father-both of who are incredibly cooks. My parents would each proclaim that the affirmation should go to them since they taught their spouse everything he/she knew. Halfway through eating, my father would then demand from me and my siblings that we proclaim who is the better cook and settle their "dispuste" once and for all. And ofcourse, there would be an epic story of exactly how my father made his magnificence masterpieces (excluding the secret ingredients that is)while my mother would interrupt his tales with loud mutterings of insults and of how it was a good thing she added those spices when he wasn't looking otherwise the food would be dry and inedible.

All this and more constitutes a "normal" dinner for the Lashley family and to me the joy of eating and communing with my family was nothing short of a spiritual experience. When I smelled the aroma of my parents cooking(nevermind if it WAS at midnight) i knew that no matter how bad my day was going, no matter how stressed I was for the present and for the future- happiness with friends and family was nearby and blessings were right around the corner. I guess this is the part of the story, where I admit that it wasn't REALLY the food, but the comradeship and family that made dinnertime soo enjoyable. However, in light of the simply heavenly BBQ chicken I had last week, I will compromise with an acknowledgement that love is always felt(whether it's emanating from the food or the cookers) in my kitchen.