The aroma of chicken cacciatore fills the air.

It's said that our sense of smell can elicit stronger memories than any of our other four senses, and I believe it. For me, few things bring back the memories of childhood as vividly as the aroma of chicken cacciatore filling the kitchen.

I remember my Mom's electric skillet filled to the brim with chicken, onions, tomatoes, and bell peppers. She would have it bubbling all afternoon. My siblings and I were like Pavlov's dogs salivating from the aroma, anxiously anticipating dinnertime.

My daughter's boyfriend, Cory, had this simmering on the stove when I got home from a wonderful weekend in Monterey. I'm posting his recipe, but it smelled just like Mom's. All the childhood memories flooded my senses and was the perfect ending to an incredible weekend. Thank you, Cory.

CORY CORY CACCAITORE

4 boneless skinless chicken breasts
2 Tbsp. olive oil
1/2 large white onion, chopped
5 cloves garlic, minced
1 green bell papper, seeded and chopped
1 red bell papper, seeded and chopped
1 1/2 cup mushrooms sliced
2-16 oz. cans stewed tomatoes
1/2-3/4 cup red wine (chianti preferred)
1 Tbsp. fresh basil.
salt and pepper, to taste

DIRECTIONS:
Cut chicken into bite-sized pieces and season with salt and pepper.
Heat olive oil and brown chicken. Remove chicken and drain fat, leaving 1 Tbsp. fat in pan. Add onions and saute 5 minutes. Add garlic and stir 2 minutes. Add peppers, mushrooms and tomatoes. Return chicken to pan and add wine and fresh basil. Cover and simmer 40 minutes. Remove lid and simmer uncovered for 10 minutes or until liquid is reduced. Season with salt and pepper if needed. Serve over cooked rice or pasta.

SERVES 4

If you really want to maximize your cooking experience while making chicken cacciatore, sip on a glass of chianti.

Mom was peachy-keen in the kitchen

My mom was a wonderful cook. She could throw a meal together in 20 minutes and it would taste like she spent all day preparing it. We marveled at the speed and versatility she showed in the kitchen.

When she passed away a few years ago I was blessed to get her recipe collection. Well, blessed and cursed. She had half of her pantry filled with cookbooks, magazines, index card file boxes, accordion files, shoe boxes, and binders, and they were all stuffed full with recipes.
I didn’t have room for them all, so the curse was in having to decide what to keep and what to give away.

After much thought, I settled on a scientific method of deciding which recipes to keep. My mom was a very messy cook (I inherited that quality), so if the recipe was stained and dirty, and appeared well used, I kept it. If the recipe was in good shape, it probably didn't get used much, so out it went.

This method worked on most of the recipes, except for the recipes that were written by mom in her own hand. I couldn't part with the ones bearing her handwriting. It is a connection that's important to me. I continue to feel her presence in the kitchen when I’m following one of her handwritten recipes. I'm not ready to let that feeling go. The handwritten recipes stayed in the "keeper" stack.


This peach cobbler recipe was on one of those handwritten and stained recipe cards. What I like about this cobbler is that it is easy, easy, easy... I can still see my mom's hands whipping it up in record time.

PEACH COBBLER

4 pounds peaches, peeled, pitted, and cut into bite-sized chunks
1 tsp. cinnamon
2 Tbsp. brown sugar
2 Tbsp. granulated sugar
1 tsp. lemon juice

1 cup flour
½ cup sugar
½ tsp salt
½ cup (1 stick) cold butter, cut into 8 pieces

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Butter 2-quart baking dish. Mix peaches, cinnamon, 2 Tbsp. brown sugar, 2 Tbsp. granulated sugar, and lemon juice together and pour into buttered dish.

In a food processor, mix together ½ cup sugar, salt, and flour until blended. Add slices of butter to processor and pulse until mixture resembles wet sand. Sprinkle crumbly mixture evenly over peaches. Bake until crust is golden brown, about 45-50 minutes. Serve warm with vanilla ice cream, if desired.

SERVES 8