I approach cooking and baking as more of an art form than as a chore to get food on the table. I entertain other people with jokes and poems and whatever smart-alec stuff I come up with, but the cooking is how I entertain myself. One bottle of ketchup and one tin of black pepper lasted in our house through my entire childhood. I have since embraced black pepper, but ketchup is still for french fries and meatloaf. Spaghetti, pork roast, chocolate truffles, black russian cake, hobo stew, any good steak over hot hardwood coals, chicken ranch parmesan linguini, oven fried chicken (starting with a whole chicken,) hash browns and fried okra in a cast iron skillet. Honoring our parents and their memories by carrying on their favorite recipes. Spaghetti, pimento cheese, bacon and eggs at midnight was my father, "green stuff," spiced peaches, stroganoff, apricot fried pies was my mother, strawberry glace' pie was my grandmother. My sisters and I try to get together at Thanksgiving to carry on the traditions. I braised beef ribs low and slowly, removed them to make barbecue sauce int the pan. Decided to test the ribs for flavor and doneness first, by the time I finished "testing" them, there was nothing left but bones. Glad I wasn't cooking for company! I made creamed ham on toast and added garlic. It turned out like creamed baloney, which nobody in my family can stand.