Food has always held a signifcant role in my family.  Although, growing up, much of it wasn''t very good.  My mother's food was often inedible (unless you were really brave, and came equipped with an iorn stomach); and her sister's food is even worse! It is always ovecooked, underseasoned and generally tasteless.

My grandmother and great aunt, Leisel were wonderful cooks.  All the women in the extended family of my youth competed with each other... Grandma made the best knishes and linsertortes, Aunt Leisel made the best nutcake (any cake really), etc.

Because my mother's food was often frightening. I began cooking for my dad at an early age.  It started with scrambled eggs or omelets and bacon; moved on to grilled steaks (season w/ salt, pepper and steaksauce then cook 6-8 minutes on each side in a countertop broiler/ toaster oven).  From there, I would cook lobsters for him (he liked them stuffed with breadcrumbs and broiled with lemon parsley and butter (also a countertop broiler/toaster oven dish). 

Growing up in Brooklyn, we lived in a neighboorhood of mixed ethnicities; mostly Jewish, Italian, and Russian. So, I would often study what my Italian friends' grandmothers were doing on Sunday mornings — making homemade "gravy" (tomato sauce), meatballs, lasagne, baked ziti, fried eggplant, etc. 

Then I would come home and try to replicate what they did.  I guess my "epiphany" came from post traumatic stress. 

My father died suddently of a heart attack when I was 17.  We were very close and the shock devistated me.  For the next three months, I didn't leave the house.  After the first few days alone in the house, I pulled the "Fannie Farmer Baking Book" from my mother's bookshelf and began to bake.

I wanted every effort to come out perfect, so I worked really hard.  First, there were cookies, then cakes, (my mom took the cheesecake to work and made lots of new frineds), then pastries — more than anyone in my house could eat.

The epiphanal moment happened when my grandmother tasted one of my pastries and asked me how I made the dough and the filling.  I knew at that moment, she not only liked my baking, but respected it as well.  It was then that I knew I wanted to continue to learn to cook and bake.

Hence, a life-long foodie emerged.