By the time I was born, my mother was a true New Mexican, even though she was born in Nebraska. For one thing, she cooked like a New Mexican. My mother never liked anyone helping her in the kitchen, so I would sit at the table and watch her cook. Often I'd notice a little yellow book of recipes on the counter top as my mother made my father's favorite New Mexican dishes.

After my mother died, one of the things I made sure to keep of my mother's was her little yellow recipe book. I already knew how to make most of the recipes already. I learned how to cook by watching my mother, so I never used the book. I simply had a fondness for the connection I felt with my mother.

A couple of decades later, I ran across the book hidden away, and I noticed that the person who had published the book was my stepmother. How delightful to find that a wonderful connection I have with my mother also connected to my stepmother. I asked her if I could share this little yellow recipe book with the, and being the generous, loving woman she is, she agreed.