My husband is a chef. He does amazing things with food. I believe one of the reasons his food is so good stems from his connection to the food; not only the farms it comes from, and its origins, but also his connections to the memories associated with the food. His passion is bringing forward some of the most precious memories buried deep within us when we take a moment to savor a bite of food. Stop for a moment and think of your favorite food-one that has been at the top of your list for a long time. Think about savoring that perfect bite. I’m a Southern girl. For me, it’s Chicken Slick. That’s what my grandma called it. One taste of it floods in the memories-Sunday Suppers, big tables packed with food, her arm draped with floured noodles waiting their turn to be tenderly bathed in a rich, boiling broth. It brings forward memories of silky slick smothering homemade biscuits, of backyard croquette, and snapping beans into a giant bowl in front of Lawrence Welk on the floor console TV.

These memories are so strong, I can smell the Chicken Slick while I write this. This is what my husband does with food.