MOTHER/DAUGHTER POWER BLOG

My mother remembers her first Mother's Day well.  It was on this day twenty-something years ago that her first-born came into this very world.  Yes, she remembers it very well.  You could say I was a pain in the ass from the very beginning.  

This Mother's Day was maybe slightly less painful than her first.  It was a crisp and sunny spring day in Long Beach, and we, mother and daughter dined on frittata, sipped prosecco, walked along the shell-covered paths of a bird sanctuary and basically went about our afternoon creating the inspiration for this: the MOTHER/DAUGHTER POWER BLOG.  My mother will be blogging about our day together as well at Blue Heron Kitchen, so please visit her fabulous e-space to complete today's Captain Kitchen experience.  Maybe this collaboration is our way of admitting what we've known for a long time: the apple, my friends, does not fall far. I look like her, talk like her, decorate, entertain and cook like her more and more every day. (Thanks, Mom.)

Our frittata was made with mushrooms, asparagus, baby spinach and fresh herbs, topped with slices of tomato 

and fresh mozzarella from Arthur Avenue in the Bronx.  (Visit the Mamablog for the actual recipe!) We munched on baked blue corn chips and fire-roasted tomato salsa, gruyere cheese, hummus, an apricot, olive bread from Amy's Bread and, as always, there was half a steamed artichoke next to my plate. (My favorite foods as a kid were always the ones that most kids stereotypically hated - I was maybe the only kid in Queens begging for artichokes, Brussels sprouts and whole cloves of roasted garlic).  We broke out the Baccarat, popped the prosecco and had a feast made for queens from Queens.  

I slipped a card onto my mother's plate when she wasn't looking.  It was completely in Spanish because that's all that was left from ravenous offspring at the Duane Reade in Penn Station, but the sentiment was all there and I think she was mostly happy that I actually remembered to get her a card this year. Before taking this photo, she requested that I write "Mom" on the envelope, but I refused. 

And then my mother took me for some "fresh air" at the Lido Beach bird sanctuary.  I discovered that she is a bit of a bird watcher, which is pretty darn adorable.  We wandered along bright white paths of broken sea shells through the marsh  as terns, herons and grackles flew overhead and reeds cat-called us on either side.  I believe the words "oh, it's just a common tern" were uttered, and I made sure to point out that no tern was common to me and how rare it was that I see any bird other than the pigeon variety.  It was so gorgeous I forgot and forgave that I was in Long Island.  

We returned home with all intention of making something with rhubarb, but got lost in the fridge and pantry as food for the week was graciously donated to me care of you-know-who. (Thanks, Mom).  I lugged my bag of goods onto the Long Island Railroad, finished my Star magazine (I inhale trashy celebrity gossip mags cover to cover when I am on the LIRR) and fell asleep.  

And so now, I leave you with this.  Enjoy.

My mother insisted she was nothing like this caricature.  When she yelled out "Look at the ducks!" at the bird sanctuary, that battle was officially lost.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.  I love you.