06/19/2026
Today would have been my mom’s 88th birthday.
She’s been gone for 20 years now, which seems impossible when there are still days I can hear her voice, remember her laugh, and picture her standing in the kitchen.
If you’ve ever sat at my table, taken one of my classes, ordered a meal, attended a Soulful Supper, or watched me fuss over whether there was enough food for everyone, you’ve experienced a little piece of her.
I learned how to cook from my mom long before I ever called myself a chef.
She taught me that food wasn’t just food. It was comfort after a hard day. It was celebration on the good days. It was how we welcomed people in, showed love, solved problems, and connected with one another.
Growing up on the farm, meals weren’t fancy. They were practical, generous, and made to feed whoever happened to be at the table that day. Looking back, so much of what My Chef Steph has become started right there in her kitchen.
Today I’m celebrating her the best way I know how—with gratitude, good food, and a table that’s always got room for one more.
Happy 88th Birthday, Mom. ❤️
I miss you every day, and I’m thankful every day that I was lucky enough to be your daughter.
The cooking came from her.
The wicked sense of humor came from her too.
Turns out she was teaching me a lot more than recipes. ❤️
