Cooking to remember.

Today is my 41st birthday and I’m honoring it with a recipe inspired by the woman who gave me life (in so many ways). My mom has Alzheimer’s so she doesn’t know it’s my birthday and I won’t remind her because, from everything I’ve learned and observed over the progression of this hellish disease, it will either make her feel terrible or she won’t understand what I’m saying at all.

My mom, pre-Alzheimer’s, was a professional chef who loved to host gatherings at our house when I was growing up. Her joy for cooking and hosting was infectious and I’m so grateful I inherited a love for both from her. She used to tell me about the days when she was pregnant with me, prepping in a restaurant kitchen with her belly hanging over the countertop. I like to think this is why the rhythm of cooking is so soothing and meditative for me.

At many of my mom’s gatherings she would serve this amazing fresh, creamy dip. I hadn’t thought of it in decades but could still taste it when I stumbled upon the recipe in an email while searching for her notes on her famous brisket. “Don’t have written recipe for green dip but here are the basics," it read. Followed by what looks exactly like the way I write down recipes (see photo).

Recently I was perusing her enormous old recipe binder filled with tons of “recipes” like this, written on perfectly stained note cards. One with a reminder to buy Tide laundry detergent scribbled at the bottom. Going through her recipes has been both sad and nourishing. One of these days, I’ll finish the cookbook she and I planned to start many years ago, when she remembered my birthdays and was my go-to reference whenever I had any food-related questions. My very own trusted cooking bible. Cooking through her recipes is an incredibly cathartic way to remember her and for a moment it takes away the very bitter taste of the present where she both exists and doesn’t exist—a feeling I’m not sure I’ll ever fully grasp, even ten years into her slow decline.

I recently had the perfect opportunity to make her dip. But with my health being top of mind lately, partly because I’m forever in fear of getting Alzheimer’s, I tried to think of ways I could swap out the entire bar of cream cheese and mayo. Tofu came to mind. I had no idea if this would work so I googled tofu dip recipes and found a few. After some searching, I decided to just wing it—it’s what my mom would have done.

I was stunned by how good it turned out. Was it the same decadent cream cheese and mayo dip my mom always made? No, but it was a whole new vibrant dip with the same flavors that came back to me when I found this original recipe. It was my mom. It was me. Her love for food was in every bite. And even better, I got to share it with our family at a gathering I hosted that evening.

Makes one batch of dip for a large gathering.

Ingredients

• 1 pack of extra firm tofu, drained

• 1 bunch watercress, leaves only (it’s ok if you get some stems in, but you’ll mostly want the leaves here)

• 1 small shallot, peeled and roughly chopped (can be very rough, large pieces)

• Juice of half a lemon

• Good quality EVOO, about 6 Tbs, or more to taste

• Kosher salt

How to make it

1. In a food processor, chop shallots, watercress, and a squeeze of lemon - you don’t want to totally puree this, just a fine chop

2. In a blender or Nutribullet, blend tofu with a squeeze of lemon, good pinch of salt, a good glug of olive oil (2-3 tablespoons), and about 6 tablespoons of water (add more water and olive oil if needed), blend until smooth.

3. Add the tofu to the food processor, and blend all together. Add lemon, salt, olive oil to taste. Let it mellow in the fridge for a bit before serving.

4. Serve with crudités and crackers (one of my mom’s go-to was jicama, sliced into sticks). Enjoy with loved ones.