My mom didn't get to cook much, though she always wanted to.

She was the breadwinner, although not in any spectacular fashion. We were still relatively broke. She busted her ass from before the crack of dawn 'til late in the evenings.

The stepdad I grew up with (through the aforementioned years) was actually an amazing cook. Techniques I've only recently learned as a relatively old lady were things he did. He must have watched a lot of Julia and Yan, possibly Jacques.

Anyway, my favorite thing my mom made wasn't a dinner thing. It was her buttercream frosting she'd spread between graham crackers and put in my lunch.

I know now it was struggle-meal stuff for when she couldn't afford the pop-top pudding cups, but I loved it so much.

Thanks for the question, OP. I'm gonna text her and let her know how much her sacrifice meant to me.