About Me

My Cooking Journey

My nick-name is Dusia and I'm glad you stopped by. Why this name for my website? Well, I remember my father coming into the kitchen when my mother was preparing meals and chiding her, saying "You should be teaching her (meaning me) to cook instead of only letting her watch — she'll get married and won't be able to make food for her poor husband." My mother would shrug her shoulders and answer "She's not stupid… there are cookbooks. Dusia CAN cook!"

I really don't know how my interest in cooking, herbs and food began, but I believe it started when I was 7 and my Babcia (grandmother) arrived from Poland to live with us. We lived on Saranac Street in N.D.G. (Nôtre-Dame-de-Grace), in Montreal just off Decarie Boulevard during the quiet days before the expressway was built.

Here is a photo of my Babcia and me, taken a few days after she arrived, standing together next to my Dad's Pontiac and grinning like fools. I was especially thrilled 'cause I was attired in her fabulous gift — a felt coat with a matching hat, both beautifully embroidered in the peasant style typical of the Kurpie region.

Babcia was smiling because after many years of dealing with red tape she was finally with her daughter's family in Canada — a land of freedom, Coca Cola and no bread lines.

When I was a teen, we shared precious time together learning about the various herbs, flowers and all the different poultices and medicines that could be made from their leaves, blooms and oils. She knew all about gardens and anything that grew.

Holidays were something we all looked forward to. It was a chance for our small family to get together. The center of activities was always the kitchen table — there was no room for a formal dining room.

My father sat at one end probably carving a roast, and Babcia at the other dishing out vegetables. Mom, Aunt Valerie and I prepared the food, our loud chatter and laughter rising to the ceiling with the steam emanating from the cooking pots on the stove.