You want me to make WHAT for your birthday?!

Today is a very special day. My twins were born on this date...quite a few years ago. I remember it like it was yesterday, of course, like all moms. It was a wild ride at first, taking care of two little babies, an older child who saved my bacon on a number of occasions (may many blessings flow to him), and a husband who worked really hard to provide for our little family. 

But that isn't what this about. This is about a meal. No, I'm not going to go into all the terribly interesting details of slicing, dicing, chopping, sauteeing, and whatnot. This is not a cooking blog, but I do (on occasion...okay, on rarer and rarer occasion) prepare what I hope will be a tasty feast in celebration of something momentous. A birthday, for instance. And so, when I innocently asked, "So, any special requests for your birthday dinner?" the last thing I expected to hear was "Gnocchi!" And I thought to myself, 'No problem...They sell that at Raley's.' But, no! Alas, then came the qualifier:  "Homemade gnocchi!"

Yikes. Now, I remember my mom making gnocchi. Interestingly, I remember her making gnocchi for me as a special request for my birthday meal. Here, I feel I must once again apologize to my mother for all that I put her through during my childhood, early adolescence, teen years, young adulthood...okay, all the way up to the present. Sorry, Mommy! May your sainthood be recognized by all who have known me.

I would ask Mom about the recipe, and she would say something like, "Recipe? What recipe? You take some potatoes, and you add...etc., etc." "Well, how much do you add?" "Oh, until the dough feels right." Seriously, Mom? Until the dough "feels right"? And how do you know when that is?

So, today, I boiled some potatoes, and I added this and that, and I measured nothing. Mom will be so proud! I added things until the dough "felt right." I kneaded and floured, I rolled out the long ropes of dough with my hands, just like I'd seen her do. I cut the dough into "little pillows," just like I remembered. And now, the gnocchi are waiting for a large pot of boiling water in which to take a quick plunge before being smothered in the sauce and served immediately to a small group of folks who are very precious to me.

I hope they will find the meal delightfully delicious, just what they'd hoped for. Just as I always did (Thanks again, Mommy!). I only hope they don't ask me for the recipe...