In the Denver Center Theatre Company’s production of The Reservoir, 20-something Josh remembers the Christmas cookies he would make with his grandmother, Irene, while growing up – no matter the season. When returning home as an adult, he’s eager to bake with her, only to discover her Alzheimer’s has quickly progressed. They won’t make any cookies together again, and becoming aware of that fact is a great loss.

Food is part of the vital connective tissue within families, crossing generations, countries, and cultures. It can be something as simple as a box of Betty Crocker vanilla cake mix – but if your family ate that cake at every birthday party, it means something special to you.

It isn’t just about the food itself; it’s about the memories associated with preparing and eating the meal. Nostalgia has a flavor, and it’s always better than you remember it.

I grew up in a house where my mother prepared dinner nearly every night for our family. We sat together at the dining table and passed our plates to mom, who would heap mashed potatoes or pulled pork or fresh green beans onto our plates. I consider myself lucky not just to know I was always guaranteed a meal, but that my mom was a capable, exceptional cook.

Today, we have a shared love of cooking. We both enjoy the process, standing at the stove like a scientist, making up the recipe as we go along – how much of this should I add, or what ingredient can bring this over the top? But I think the part of cooking we enjoy most is feeding those around us.

My mom has passed some of her recipes on to me (knowingly or otherwise), and I hope to share them with my future kids someday. My brother, the first to have children of his own, prepared our mom’s recipe for scalloped corn casserole (we’re Midwestern) at Thanksgiving right alongside his toddler daughter – she’s great at stirring.

Our family isn’t an anomaly – recipes are passed down through generations like genetic traits. However, it’s essential to preserve these recipes. It’s an active process, remembering and cooking, and the little things can fall through the cracks when we stop making the time to cherish these traditions.

Family recipes can carry cultural significance, representing a particular region of cuisine where your long-ago ancestors lived and worked. They can evoke strong emotions, or a feeling of connection to a place you may not have visited, or a person you’ve never met. That’s the power of food.

When you see a family member in the kitchen, fluttering between the pantry and the oven, whipping up a signature dish – ask them about it! You may learn it was originally made by a distant aunt or cousin, or a product of their own imagination. Traditions start somewhere, and learning a new recipe can be a powerful way of carrying on your unique familial identity.

CHOCOLATE WAFFLE COOKIES

Originally made by my grandma Janet (born 1938), passed down to my mom (born 1967), and made today by me (born 1996)

Ingredients:
1 ½ cups granulated sugar
1 cup softened butter or margarine
4 eggs at room temperature
2 tsp vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
½ cup cocoa powder
1 tsp salt

Cream the sugar and butter with a mixer until light and fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time until incorporated, then add the vanilla and stir to combine. Add the flour, cocoa, and salt and stir until just combined. The batter will be stiff.

Spoon one rounded teaspoon into a preheated waffle iron in each section. Bake for one to two minutes, or until firm and baked through. Let cool before eating. These cookies freeze exceptionally well.

Author’s note: these cookies are the best when eaten from the freezer, just a little bit thawed and fudgy inside, with vanilla ice cream.