“Emily, dinner”! I would hear every night at 5:55 pm. I would quickly drop my pencil and run downstairs into the kitchen. Usually about this time, the salad would be on the table and my mom would be waiting for everything to come out of the oven at 6 pm sharp. She would say to me, “Call dad and see if he is close”. I would call him like I did most nights and sure enough he would be pulling in the garage. He was always home by 6 but she just wanted to make sure that he was on his way.

When we heard the garage door open, you could see the biggest smile on my mothers face. She once told me that she still got butterflies in her stomach everyday when he came home from work. They had a love like no other.

We would all run to the table, eager to see what was for dinner that night. Occasionally, it was something new that she had seen on TV, heard about from a friend, read in a magazine, or in an old cookbook. She was very adventurous and loved to try new things.

“Monday Night Spaghetti” was a staple in our house. She would cook the spaghetti noodles and then cook ground sirloin. After the meat was cooked through she seasoned the meat with her secret ingredient, sugar. Then she would mix it all together and put it in the oven until the top became crispy.

If I were served this dish in a restaurant I would probably think it was overcooked. There was something special about her spaghetti though. It was made with love and the smell of our house on Monday nights was just so delicious and warm. It tasted amazing.

Something happens to your senses when you eat certain foods. It brings back that bittersweet memory.

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