Mama always loved food. Mama + Food = Happiness... that was the recipe. Food was something we always talked about, even till the end. When all else failed, I knew the topic of food would never fail. We'd talk about what she ate, what she was going to eat or what she really wanted to eat. As her memory got worse I'd ask her about what she ate that day to see if she remembered. I'd check the menu on her bulletin board daily so I always knew what she really ate. If she didn't remember, she'd say spaghetti (her favorite) or meat and potatoes (always a safe answer).
She constantly talked about cooking and how much she missed it, so I'd ask her about some of her favorite recipes. It became a running joke for me and Douglass because every dish always had the same ingredients. She'd say "a little salt, a little pepper, olive oil and a lot of Italian cheese". It didn't matter what the dish was, it was her stock answer.