Stets Marah - Magnolia Table

Contents

Contents

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THE MAGNOLIA STORY

MAGNOLIA TABLE . Copyright 2018 by Joanna Gaines. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

FIRST EDITION

Illustrations 2017 Andre Junget

Photography by Amy Neunsinger

Digital Edition APRIL 2018 ISBN: 978-0-06-282016-7

Version 04122018

Print ISBN: 978-0-06-282015-0

To Chip and the kids,

You inspire me not only in the kitchen, but in every part of life. I love to cook, in no small part, because of the excitement and appreciation you have shown for my home-cooked meals all along the way. Our time together in the kitchen and the countless hours we have spent around the table are my favorite memories of all.

I like to compare our first month of marriage to free-falling through the air with no idea how or where we would land. Chip and I had just started renovating a really small house that I couldnt wait to call home, while also renovating my little shop on Bosque. If youre familiar with our story, then you may remember that we bought the building on Bosque because Chip had encouraged me to start my own business after Id quietly dreamed about it for years. Before then, I had never really taken any true risks. I didnt like trying things that I might not be good at because I believed that failure was a bad thing, and therefore, not an option. Looking back, theres no telling what I missed out on because I was too scared to try something new or because I gave up on something that may have been a little uncomfortable before I could see the reward in it. I preferred feeling safe to being stretched. But after only a month of marriage, Chip was already somehow making risk look fun. He sincerely believed that failure could be a valuable thing, and I was beginning to see that it didnt need to be something I feared. Chip was teaching me that even if I failed at something, I could just get back up and try again.

We were newlyweds and uncertain about how to do this thing called marriage. As we got closer to finishing the updates on the house, I had two looming thoughts in the back of my mind: How do I even begin to decorate a house? and What in the world am I going to cook in our new kitchen? I was feeling way out of my comfort zone as a new wife and putting a ton of pressure on myself. But I was determined to put my best foot forward and try my hand in the kitchen. My sister-in-law, Shannon, had given me one of the best wedding presents: a cookbook full of Gaines family recipes. To be honest, at the time I was mostly just intimidated by the thought of cooking full meals, but it still meant so much and made me feel truly welcomed into their family.

As we got close to spending our first night in the renovated house, I started combing through the recipes Shannon had shared with me, looking for inspiration. They sounded delicious, but really unfamiliar. Since I wasnt one to try something new and was terrified of ruining a beloved family recipe, I decided that the very first thing Id serve Chip was my moms spaghetti. It was one of my favorites, and it was really simple to make. She browned ground beef in a skillet and added a jar of store-bought marinara sauce while she boiled thin noodles. Mom would mix it all together in a bowl after it was cooked and serve it with warm bread and butter on the side. This meal embodied comfort and safety to me. It felt like home. To this day, whenever I eat spaghetti, that warm, fuzzy feeling hits me and I feel like all is right in the world.

That evening, I set the table with our new dishes, lit a few candles, served water in nice wineglasses (we were on a tight budget, but the glasses made the water seem fancy), and dished out the spaghetti for Chip. I was feeling pretty confident that this was a fail-safe meal to serve to my new husband in our new home. He took two bites and didnt say anything. That was probably the first time since wed met that hed been at a loss for words. I figured he was just in awe of what was in front of him and trying to process how much he loved it. After six bites I couldnt handle the silence so I asked him what he thought.

And then he said these words: Welllll, umm, it doesnt taste like my moms spaghetti.

I almost choked on my noodles. A few not-so-nice thoughts (and words) were running through my mind, but I kept quiet and let him continue to dig himself even deeper into this hole.

I just love my moms spaghetti. I wish you would have asked her for her recipe. This tastes different, and Im just used to my moms.

I got up from the table, cleared away his plate, and told him he could do the dishes and clean up the mess in the kitchen. I was done. Lets just say he learned his lesson. But I learned a valuable one that night as well. Food is personal. Its like the musical soundtrack of our lives, and it can take us back to a particular moment in timegood or bad. Food is also emotional. It connects us to our past. Chips deep loyalty to his moms spaghetti is actually really sweet. I love and appreciate it now, fifteen years later. And back then, I eventually realized that we were both just missing our mamas and anxious about adjusting to this new, unfamiliar chapter of life. Food was the symbol of everything wed known up until then. And through my cooking that meal and Chips reaction to it, we were in fact communicating everything we were experiencing in that moment, as newlyweds at our own table, in our own home.

It wasnt until I was pregnant with our first son, Drake, that I started to step it up in the kitchen. This happened mainly because I was having the oddest cravings. Many times I would want something so particular that I had no choice but to whip it up myself. I dont think I ever made anything too amazing; I just know that I tried. Chip also knew by then to encourage me in my effortsor else hed have to go get takeout.