The Story.

My earliest memories are of sitting in the kitchen with my mom.  If I close my eyes, I see my mother, with flour on her hands, rolling out dough on the bakers table that sat in the middle of the room.  She's wearing an apron.  Measuring sugar, baking soda, spices, all out in the palm of her hand.  Because that's what she was most comfortable doing.  Because she could "eye" those things. 

To this day, my husband thinks that when I ask him if I can make something for him and his friends, that it's a burden for me.  He could not be more wrong.  There is nothing I love more than cooking.  Measuring things in my hand.  Getting all my bowls dirty.  Getting flour on my concrete kitchen floor. 

I've given it lots of thought, and I think I love it so because it reminds me of my mother.  And of my first home.  She's only 2 hours away from me now, but I feel her presence so much more when I'm cooking.

Rachel Ray always calls herself a "cook", not a "chef".  This is much like my mother.  She's never had any formal training.  Well, she took a cooking class in Italy.

I say this to say that I believe there is an art to cooking.  And it's not something you can necessarily learn in the classroom.  Much like any other talent, it's something you are born with.  At least, I believe that.  I wasn't born with it.  My mother was.  She can look at a recipe and make changes to it.  Make it better, or tweak it.  She can walk into a pantry, pull out several items.  Open the refrigerator, pull out several more items.  And give her 30 minutes, and you've got a meal.  A four star meal.  That's way more than following a recipe you found in southern living this month.

Now, about the name, The Invisible Chef.  Mom taught school for 14 years.  In October of 2001, she decided that life was just too short, and she opened the doors to a small catering business.  The name was important.  Mom and dad talked about several ideas, but nothing really stuck.  Until one day, they were eating dinner at a place in El Dorado.  There was a painting (which became the restaurant's logo), and under it was written, "The chef's invisible til the foods not good."  The artist was Dean Lynn from Texarkana.  They bought the paining, hung it in the deli and called the place, "The Invisible Chef". 

The Invisible chef was sort of a "gourmet food to go".  She did catering on the side.  It quickly became a sit down deli, with a crowd of regulars that came by daily to enjoy some of her most popular foods.  Such as: chicken salad, tomato basil soup, the Invisible Chef house salad, bread pudding, and Kentucky Derby pie.  Oh, and the Toasted Coconut Pie.

After 6 years of waking multipe times in the middle of night to scrible down some recipe or something she had forgotten to do, oh...and multiple back surgeries, (think standing from 6:30 am to 8 pm at night, yes!) she closed the doors.  Initially, there was talk about selling the business to someone.  But more and more, she decided that she would never really feel comfortable handing over everything to someone else.  And honestly, it's hard to leave your name on something when you are no longer there. 

So that brings us to today.  Spencer and I constantly call and ask her tips.  And ask for her to clarify recipes.  She is full of cooking knowledge.  And I think it's only fair to share that with everyone.  Via the blogworld.  So here we go....

Enjoy.  And feel free to leave us a comment or ask a question!  Or if there is something you're looking for, let us know that too!

Bon Appétit,
the Chef and Hannah.