I am in the middle of a weeklong tribute to the recipes of my mother. I am lucky to have so many of her recipes compiled into a cookbook my brother put together after she passed away in 1993, long before her time.

Up until today I chose recipes from this collection that were familiar to me. Foods strongly attached to the woman I knew as mom and the food she provided my childhood tummy. Some comfort foods from my past, or dishes that I find endearing because they highlight some aspect of my mother's quirky attributes, or maybe just plain old childhood favorites.

But my mother knew a heck of a lot more about food than merely being the person who filled the bellies of three ungrateful eaters night after night. She was well read and had a sophisticated palate. So, until today none of the recipes I have presented really spoke to my mother's great love of exciting flavors. She was at the front end of American housewives branching out into classical French cooking styles at home. My mother had strong attachments to culinary cities like San Francisco and New Orleans. I remember my parents traveling to these cities and I remember my mother coming home and talking about the food.