A Little Taste of Home, A Whole Lot of Love

A Little Taste of Home — A Whole Lot of Love ❤️

I grew up in Hyde Park, Chicago, in the ’70s and ’80s, with a hippie mom, a kitchen full of homemade food, and a family that believed there was always room at the table for one more person. ❤️

My mom was very intentional about the food we ate. We didn’t grow up on a lot of packaged sweets or convenience foods. We made things from scratch, using real ingredients, often picked up from the local co-op. We weren’t a wealthy family, but looking back, I realize we had something pretty special.

My mom made the BEST German chocolate cake from scratch. And naturally, my favorite part wasn’t just eating the cake. It was standing beside her in the kitchen, licking the mixing bowl, the spoon, and the spatula like it was my official job. 😂🍰

I watched her cook. I watched her bake. I learned by being there, by helping, by tasting, and by simply sharing that space with her.

And when I think about it now, I realize that was where my love of food really began.

My grandma lived close by, family gathered together, my parents always had friends over, and there was almost always something happening around the table. I invited my friends over constantly, too. My mom used to joke that I wasn’t allowed to be alone and needed an entire entourage following me around. 🤣

Honestly? She wasn’t entirely wrong.

Food was never just food in our house. It was how we gathered. How we welcomed people. How we took care of each other.

We made goulash out of whatever happened to be in the pantry and refrigerator. We baked our own bread. We made cakes and treats from scratch. We didn’t need everything to match or look perfect. We just needed enough to share.

And here’s the funny thing about growing up that way: sometimes, I felt embarrassed. In those days, bringing homemade food to school or eating differently from the other kids could make you feel like you were missing out. I didn’t always appreciate what we had.

Now? I’d give just about anything to sit in that kitchen again, lick that cake batter off the spatula, and listen to everyone talking around the table. ❤️

I miss Chicago, too. The neighborhoods, the people, the incredible food from every corner of the city. Chicago has a food culture that’s hard to explain until you’ve experienced it. And no matter where I’ve lived since, a little piece of my heart has always stayed there.

Maybe that’s why I’m doing what I’m doing now.

La Susa Bakes ~N~ Sweets isn’t just about baking cakes, breads, and sweet treats. It’s about bringing a little bit of that feeling back.

It’s about making homemade food feel approachable again. It’s about reminding people that cooking from scratch doesn’t have to be intimidating, expensive, or Pinterest-perfect. Sometimes you just throw together what you have, make a little mess, and end up with something wonderful.

That’s the spirit of the messy baker. 😂 Flour on the counter. A recipe that takes a detour. A cake that might not win a beauty contest but tastes like a hug.

And maybe, just maybe, a child standing beside you, waiting for their turn to lick the spoon, making a memory they’ll carry for the rest of their life.

Because food is love. Food is tradition. Food is community.

And if I can help a busy family put something homemade on the table, give someone a taste of the home they miss, or help a beginner discover that they really CAN make something delicious from scratch, then that’s worth every bit of flour I get in my hair. ❤️🍞🍰

Now I want to ask you something.

What’s one food from your childhood that takes you straight back home?

Was it your grandma’s bread? Your mom’s Sunday dinner? A cake you only got on birthdays? Something made from whatever happened to be in the cupboard?

Tell me about it in the comments. I’d genuinely love to hear your stories. And if someone came to mind while you were reading this, share this post with them. Let’s bring a little more of those food memories back. ❤️

— La Susa Bakes ~N~ Sweets