In West Philidelphia born and raised, on the playground thats where I spent most of my days...actually thats the Fresh Prince of Bell Air but you gotta start somewhere. I was born and raised in England - the product of an American dad and and English mom and the fourth of five children. My mom makes everything from scratch and her recipes all consist of "use a litte bit of this and some of that and then just kind of throw some of this in." Since I can't find measuring cups with those labels I am hoping to learn how to cook from recipes here and my mom's genious will start to make sense. I try to go for edible food but it's hit and miss. I LOVE my crock pot and lately my pizza stone. I guess those are things I cook with not actual food items. I like anything with cheese, and am always excited to find cheese and bacon in the same dish. My mom would spend days in the kitchen baking. The whole house would smell of baking goodness. There is just something about the taste of WARM bread and coookies. My mother was seriously a genious. I don't know how she fed 5 children without a microwave, and pre-made frozen meals. I appreciate every day what a talent she has and how much it means to sit down and eat as family - something we did every night without fail. My single proudest moment was when my parents came to visit a few months ago, we sat down to eat and somehow the universe was kind and I created a near perfect meal. And my mom said 'Jane, you've become quite the cook'. Sweet. Oh so many. I don't want to seem like I favor one tragedy over another and I only have 1000 characters max. so I'll just sum up by asking for a moment of silence for all the meals that now (bless their ingredients) rest in pieces.