I had flashbacks of my childhood the other day when my dad came down from Martha’s Vineyard to visit. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon and both my parents, my closest girlfriend and I sat on my front porch talking about family. All five of my children and my two grands had descended from around the city to visit Pop, who they see much less frequently than my mother.  The children had also invited close friends to enjoy the day.

Having both of my parents together is rare, because they divorced two decades ago and  Dad immediately remarried. But just like in the old days, my parents gravitated to the front porch, eager  to discuss their  progeny. Thirteen grandkids between their three daughters,  so they had lots  to catch up on. Like his father, my dad loves to pontificate, and just as he did when I was a child  he held court with the  “youngins. ”

Growing up, our front porch was sacred and was one of my parents’ favorite sanctuaries. It was the one place where they could talk in private but still keep an ear on the house. With three active daughters, there was always something going on. Even though my  parents aren’t really in each other’s lives  much these days, when they do get together  they are friends, which is a good thing because our family has grown  so large.

With my southern- bred  grace,  I  thought  dad’s visit was the perfect  excuse to make a  small  feast.

My menu

Ripe sliced peaches and nectarines  ♥

Spring mix salad  with  blood-orange  tomatoes, mushrooms and peppers ♥

Asian coleslaw  ♥

Baby potatoes tossed with olive oil,  fresh garlic and parsley

Stir-fried zucchini and squash  ♥

Teriyaki  chicken  ♥

Sliced peach bread

Strawberries and cream ice cream

Raspberry ice cream

♥  indicates heart healthy

Seven of the grandkids, ages six to 18, crowded into my small dining room while the grown folks dined outside. I  realized just how blessed I am to be able to make people happy with my food, just like my late grandmother  Muddie, who passed her passion for cooking right down to me. Now if  only I had learned to make her rolls, which were  phenomenal.  I don’t have her recipe,  but someone in the family must and I just have to get on a mission find it.

My front porch is way smaller than the one I grew up with, and  my parents  are much wiser than they were 40 years ago. Today, my front porch remains a favorite gathering place for family and friends. It’s the one area where I can connect to the outside world and still enjoy the ambience of my home. It’ s  also a reminder of my  particular affinity for Southern Victorian mansions with their wrap-around porches lined with wicker rocking chairs and elders who wisely share their wisdom over glasses of  cold strawberry lemonade.

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