Mom’s the word
by Chef Boy Ari

With Mother's Day fast approaching, it's worth giving some thought to what mom might like to eat on her special day. For clues, let's start with a look at where the day comes from.

Some historians will tell you that Mother's Day has deep roots in the traditions of our earth-worshiping, pagan foremothers. Others look to the springtime celebrations of ancient Greece, which honored Rhea, the mother of all gods. Still others prefer to find historical antecedent in the forth Sunday of Lent, which honors the Virgin Mary. All of these roots are probably true. Nonetheless, the fact remains that the current incarnation of Mother's Day was pushed onto the calendar by a Pennsylvanian named Ana Jarvis whose mother died on the second Sunday of May, 1907.

By most accounts, Jarvis' mom was worth remembering. During the Civil War, the elder Mrs. Jarvis ran "Mother's Work Camps" in West Virginia. She declared her camps neutral, and they aided wounded soldiers on both sides of the war.

While this doesn't get us any closer to the table, it does suggest that if we want to do any justice whatsoever to the concept of Mother's Day, we should celebrate peace. Who better to understand the cost of war than the mother who doesn't want her son to go? The Greek poet Aristophanes wrote a play called Lysistrata, in which the women of Greece denied sex to their men (husbands, that is) who didn't promise to stay away from the war.

All of this history sheds light on different aspects of mothering and mother earth. It's a combination of qualities like these that compelled humans to worship goddess figures for centuries. Thus, the Mother's Day meal should be a celebration of all things feminine. Anything that is suckled through a straw would be fine. Hot dogs and "Rocky Mountain Oysters" need not apply. Peaceful, nurturing fare would be ideal.

Jews, who follow the dietary guidelines known as Kashrut, or Kosher, forbid the mixing of milk and meat in the same meal. This rule is based on an Old Testament line that appears three times (twice in Exodus, once in Deuteronomy): "Thou shalt not boil a kid in his mother's milk." Debate continues over what, exactly, this line means and why it is printed three times. Whatever it means, it's chilling, and it casts a tragic light on the act of flesh eating. Suffice it to say, there will be no cheeseburgers for Mother's Day supper in any Kosher home.

To get some expert advice on what mothers want, I asked my mom. "Strawberries dipped in chocolate," she blurted instantly. Normally I would complain that local strawberries are not ready yet, and couldn't she please desire something more appropriate to season and place, rather than the imported counterpart that tastes like cardboard? But given the context, I had to be diplomatic. One way around this glitch would be to celebrate Mother's Day again when strawberries are in season. Come to think of it, one holiday a year is pretty sparse treatment for what mom deserves, so why not?Although strawberries and chocolate is something of a no-brainer for catering to 99 percent of the world's female population, the most important lesson I learned from my mom is that it's very hard, if not entirely counterproductive, to give general advice on Mother's Day food. Every mother is different, and Mother's Day food should be all about what she wants.

When she said "I prefer food that is nostalgic, rather than exotic," I think she struck the heart of the matter. Here is where a study of history - personal history - will really help. You want food with sentimental value that will trigger her heartstrings. But be forewarned: if you get it right she will probably cry.

Obviously, mom should be served. Mom shalt not cook, and mom shalt not clean. Brunch comes up often in the context of Mother's Day, probably because brunch is indicative of a leisurely and indulgent morning. Let her get up and fart around at her own pace, while you prepare her favorite girlhood food, which in my mom's case would be cheese blintzes.

And if your meal is in memoriam, or if mom is far away, cooking her favorite foods will nonetheless invoke her presence at your table. She will be well-remembered.

And for those strawberries dipped in chocolate, I like a simple combination of dark chocolate pieces in a pan on low heat or, ideally, a double boiler. As it's melting, stir in butter a little at a time for a smoother, shinier texture, up to a stick of butter per pound of chocolate. You can also add ½ cup Kahlua per pound of chocolate and/or a few tablespoons of sour cream. I recommend lots of spoon licking and strawberry gobbling experimentation. After slowly melting the mixture, dip the strawberries and set them on a piece of wax paper on a cookie sheet. Chill - but don't freeze - long enough to harden the chocolate.