The face on the plate: A family tradition that made Mother’s Day special
A family tradition shows how to make a Mother’s Day special
As May rolls around each year, I watch the ads for ways to celebrate Mother’s Day. Florists suggest roses, chocolatiers beg to differ, spas suggest a relaxing massage and restaurants suggest that Mom should take a day off from cooking. Retail stores offer sales, and there’s probably a plumber somewhere who advocates that what Mom really wants is for the bathroom sink to drain more quickly.
At one level, it’s hard to argue with any of these. Some people really appreciate chocolates and flowers, and unless you’re one of those people who doesn’t like strangers touching you, a stress-relieving rub sounds great. Taking a day off from cooking may be appreciated, though it’s possible that moms who are spending time in the kitchen nowadays are there because they like it. I won’t argue against retail therapy, and having the sink drain quickly may lack a certain romance but is certainly practical.
All the same, these strategies for celebrating motherhood leave out something central: a mother is a mother because she has children, whether by birth, adoption, marriage, or something more informal. Where are the kids in all of this? How do they share in that day, show their love and appreciation for the person who brought them into the world, who gives her time and energy to build their character?
The peddlers of various goods and experiences are offering things that a woman might like any day of the year, but they’re things that a friend or acquaintance might buy as a gift. They’re separate from the concept of family, nice but not meaningful, and probably destined to be soon forgotten.
Then what, you might ask, would be a way to invoke the concept of family and make the Mother’s Day special? Our family tradition has been for the children to assist in making her brunch that day, and later when they became capable of it, to make it themselves. Our son was older and was first to be allowed to cook the eggs, which were at least theoretically going to be fried, but in the early years invariably came out scrambled. If my wife found bits of shell in them, or they were either overcooked or runny, she was too polite to mention it.
Our daughter, Rebecca, was younger but showed more culinary creativity, at first by carefully making pancakes in the shape of letters so she could spell out cheery messages. Her talent really manifested when she was judged competent to use a knife and cut fruit for the salad, which she carved with ornate flourishes before arranging it artistically.
I credit my daughter with advancing the Mother’s Day brunch further when, at the age of about seven, she started sculpting breakfast into faces. The first ones were not portraits of any particular person — for instance, a clown made from a slice of cinnamon raisin toast with applesauce ears, nuts for eyes, a blueberry smile and a shirt made from cheese with raisins for buttons. As Rebecca’s skills increased, the food sculptures became portraits of her mother, the first made with a croissant for hair, and a tortilla, white and yellow cheese, bacon bits and chocolate drops making facial features around a nose sculpted from leftover chicken.
More ambitious and accurate portraits followed, and by the time Rebecca was eleven she was baking brownies the previous night so she could cut them into a fairly accurate representation of my wife’s hairstyle. This was accented by barrettes made of cheese in the places where my wife wore them, and framed a face made of a slice of bologna with cheese, jicama and fruit. The next year she created a masterpiece with a pancake topped with a fantasy of fruit, jam and chocolatecovered raisins that was artfully designed and
delightfully silly. Our son meanwhile, got much better at eggs and also made breakfast meats that included homemade sausage.
Though I had started out as the architect of the meal with the children helping, as they became more capable I was relegated to making coffee and opening the Champagne. I might occasionally be asked whether the raspberry jam or the blueberry better matched the color of her eyes, but if not consulted, I stood back until it was time to clean the kitchen and do the dishes.
Each year the portrait in food and its accompaniments was delivered with ceremonial solemnity so my wife could enjoy breakfast in bed. When it was unveiled, there was much giggling, expressions of amazement, and parental pride. Each portrait was eaten gratefully and joyfully even though in early days the combinations were chosen more for visual than culinary effect. Pictures were taken and shared with colleagues at work, and though some may have found each annual creation odd, every mother who saw it understood. It was an expression of love and creativity devised by the children for their mother, and as such, priceless.
The Mother’s Day faces continued until Rebecca moved out of state to go to college, and our son and I haven’t continued it — those were hers to create. By that time, though, both children had a solid ground in cooking and had firsthand experience with the joy of giving and receiving food made with love. It didn’t take a fancy kitchen or professional skills, just a sense of whimsy and ingredients as simple as fruit, bread and the condiments that might be in any refrigerator and spice cupboard.
Not everyone has children who love to cook as mine do — growing up with a food writer as a father could possibly have something to do with it. However, any parent might consider whether there is something that your children can do with their mother or for their mother that can show their devotion. If mom really likes flowers, might the children plant and tend that garden, even if it’s a few pots on a balcony? If there’s a fragrance she enjoys, could the children assist with infusing it into soap or candles? There are videos online for these and other skills, and the act of making the surprise for Mom together is a bonding moment for the rest of the family. Consider what she loves, have it made by whom she loves, and make it a truly special day.