As someone who grew up with a mom who cooked and baked from scratch, I proudly carried the tradition on in my own family, resisting as much as possible cooking food from boxes (although the new Kraft Homestyle Macaroni and Cheese is pretty good!), and am happy to see that my own kids are doing a lot of the same kind of cooking.

People need to know what real, unprocessed and non-chemically-enhanced and -colored food tastes like.  They need to eat brownies that taste like real chocolate and butter and vanilla.  They need to understand that cooking is nurturing, and it's creative.  They need to be the ones to decide what goes into the food they eat - how much salt and seasoning they want, how much fat, and sugar, and so on.

The cooking you do, as tired as you are, and as painful as it is for your arthritic fingers, doesn't just keep alive the traditions of the Greek culture - which is, in itself, important - it keeps people connected to real food.

I know this sounds kind of morbid and weird, but as I was out shopping and doing errands today and thinking about the week's meals, it popped into my head  - don't ask why this kind of thing pops into my head, because I have no idea - that when I die, people are going to remember me for the food I cooked, for the care and love I put into it for the people I love; they're going to make the foods that will always remind them of me, and of holidays, of birthdays and regular old family meals.