When I married Jerry (1981), his mother was part of the package. That woman could cook. She could make dirt soup and you would ask for more. She traveled to beach vacations with her pots and pans. While most people were enjoying the beach, she was inside blanching tomatoes to make a fish stew from the catch of the day by her other son, off whom we lived vicariously (like when he would pull in 8’ bull sharks). I was smart enough to watch her. I offered to help, but she really didn’t it so I just observed while chatting with her. All the great chefs point to their mothers as the people who cooked the best; she could have begat a five star Michelin chef. This was a woman who bore a child and then made the doctor a steak! Years later, when Jerry and I hosted a certain Czechoslovakian tennis player, Jerry made what he knew how to make — a big Polish dinner. It was a big hit, too.

The point is I decided waaay back to start asking my friends for their very best recipe, you know, the one people would miss when they were dead. I got Noni’s NY Italian grandmother’s cheesecake recipe and it’s the best you’ll ever eat. I was very judgmental, too. I made every recipe, and if I didn’t like, or it was difficult or pretentious, it didn’t go in the book. Only contributors received printed, spiral-bound copies of the book, too. I used to have a picture of my labrador, Kyra, on the back with the words, “all recipes have been lab tested.” My first cookbook was called Back Roads Cafe because back roads are the best way to travel, when you have the time. Eventually, I named it Camolete’s Cookbook, but haven’t added to it in years. I’m so happy to share it and, please, read it like a book. Every recipe is sure-fire. I have my favorites. Tell me which ones you like.

Like I said, I stopped adding to the cookbook eons ago, but it is an historical record of life back then and the best way to save them.