Jaime Richardson - Celebrate Every Day: Recipes for Making the Most of Special Moments with Your Family

Contents

acknowledgments

I n years to come, I will look back on this book as the culmination and token of my early years as a single mom. I was a work in progress before I started, and still am. Despite that, dozens of people, both friends and family, have believed in me, and to them I want to extend my deepest gratitude:

Mary Norris, my editor, and the tireless team at Globe Pequot Press who have turned my words and pictures into something beautiful.

Amy Moore-Benson, my agent, who was interested in seeing what I could come with up after seeing my blog on an iPad with a sluggish internet connection, and then remembering me six months later, when I finally got up the courage to ask if shed represent me.

Timothy Robinson, who listened to me the very first time I ever breathed the words, Im thinking of writing a cookbook, to someone in publishing, and then pointed me in the right direction.

Connie and Grant McKenzie, my good friends who insisted, on a weekly basis, I should write this book in the first place.

Josh Mormann, my big brother, for believing in me and being the backbone of Sophistimom.com. I could not have done one scrap of any of this without his help.

Jessica Mormann, my sister, whom I still look up to, for her words of wisdom and countless pep talks.

Julie Donaldson, my writing buddy, fellow traveler, and cherished friend. She was always therealwaysto offer support, suggestions, encouragement, and a kick in the pants whenever I needed it.

Erin Summerill, my photography consultant, writing conspirator, partner in dieting, and wingman. Without even knowing it, she has lifted me out of some of the darkest times of my life.

The Provo City Librarymost particularly Laura Wadleywhose suggestions of books and music helped to shape and define each party into something special.

Shannon and Scott Bingham, for the use of their gorgeous home, and their patience and help while I finished the book.

Kamran Siddiqi, a fellow blogger, and the most talented kid I know, for his encouraging words and insights, and for his help with the Indian recipes.

Lila Tueller, for the use of her beautiful quilts.

Stacey Ann Ratliff, for going above and beyond friendship to test so many of my recipes.

Jessie Humphries, for putting me on the spot, and making me talk to Amy, who is now my agent.

The people at Weck Jars for providing all the beautiful jam jars, flasks, and tumblers in the book.

Angie and Bert Lewis, for being there for me, time and time again.

My mother. I could not have asked for a better one. She is my biggest supporter, and unfailing confidante. I can never get over how lucky I am to have her as a mom.

And finally, and most importantly, my kids: Stuart, Sophie, and Charlie. I love you guys, with all my heart. Thank you, thank you, thank you for being my light, my joy, and the very best parts of my life. This book never would have happened without you and your beautiful faces.

M y poor kids had no idea what they were in for when they got me for a mom.

When my oldest was born, I began reading Peter Pan to him before we left the hospital. Not long after that, I decided Pride and Prejudice would be required reading before my daughters (yet to be born) would ever leave the house on a date. And then theres my youngest son, whose middle name is as dreamy as a Jane Austen heros.

When life began in our house, I was quite determined to raise two princes and a princess fit to inhabit my castle in the sky. They would love not only classic literature, but all other fine things of life: great food, foreign countries and languages, art, philosophy, logic, and architecture. Classical music.

But then the inevitable happened: Reality prevailed.

Things like Shakespeare and eggs Benedict quickly took backseats to things like Spongebob and Gogurt as my kids preferences won out, and I saw how much easier it was to let certain things go.

Even so, I did try to stuff as much sophistication into the gaps as I could. Sometimes it was dancing together in the kitchen while arias by Mozart and Bach played on full blast; other times it was teaching my toddlers the lyrics to Nat King Cole songs. We read classics together as often as we could, and I introduced them to crme brle. They thought I was a genius.

However, manyif not mostof my attempts at bringing them up well were not as happily received as I would have hoped, especially surrounding food. My three-year-old, for example, wouldnt eat pasta. Honestly, what kind of kid doesnt like pasta?

So I did what every other woman of my demographic was doing at the time: I started a blog. I figured, if my kids wouldnt eat the lasagna, someone elses kid in the world would. I called it Sophistimom, and it became my place to tell funny stories, create new recipes, share our favorite books, and relate my attempts to teach the kids good manners, and anything else a respectable person should know.