Culinarian Day: A Tribute to the Greatest Chef Who Ever Rolled Her Eyes at a Picky Eater—My Nana

Today is Culinarian Day, which—if we’re being honest—is a fancy way of saying “Let’s all thank the people who feed us and pretend we didn’t just microwave cheese on bread for lunch.” But I’m not here to talk about five-star chefs or anyone who uses words like umami unironically. No, today I raise my fork, plate, and undying loyalty to the real culinary legend: my Nana.

Nana doesn’t cook.
She commands the kitchen.

She doesn’t follow recipes.
Recipes follow her… or they don’t exist at all.

There are no Pinterest boards, no avocado spirals, and definitely no kale unless it’s hiding under real food. Nana’s approach to cuisine can best be described as “If you’re hungry, you’ll eat it,” and honestly? I have. With joy. With gratitude. With a second helping.

Now, let’s be clear. Nana has rules. These aren’t written down, mind you—this isn’t a democracy. This is casserole court, and she’s the judge, jury, and cornbread executioner.

Rule #1: Don’t pick over your food.
You do not dissect her macaroni like it’s a science experiment. This is not the place for you to start investigating the ingredients like some food detective. You eat it. You chew it. You keep your face neutral if you’re unsure.

Rule #2: If you don’t like what she made, don’t eat.
But don’t expect her to whip up some culinary side quest just because you “suddenly don’t do onions.” Nana has never and will never be a short-order cook. You either eat what she fixed, or you enjoy a big ol’ serving of air pudding with invisible sauce.

And let me tell you, that air pudding?
It smells like heaven. Like butter, garlic, and the threat of starvation. I’ve caught myself mid-sulk, stomach growling, reconsidering my entire life just from the aroma of her roast floating down the hall.

Truthfully, I’ve never met a dish of hers I didn’t like.
Wait. Scratch that.

Chitlins.
Shudder.

There are some things even the strongest stomach can’t love, and Nana’s chitlins are… well, legendary for reasons best left unexplored. Let’s just say they’re the only time I’ve considered faking a stomach flu as a dietary strategy.

Still, Nana is the kind of cook who doesn’t need fanfare. No apron that says “Kiss the Cook.” No fancy knives or Instagram-worthy kitchen aesthetic. Just decades of experience, instinct passed down like secret family code, and an uncanny ability to turn “a little of this and that” into “you’re going to need a nap afterward.”

So on this Culinarian Day, forget Michelin stars and cooking shows with people whispering about foam. Let’s give it up for Nana—the woman who fed generations with love, grit, and the silent expectation that you will not waste her food.

Because in the end, the best meals don’t always come with explanations.

Sometimes, they come with a side-eye and a second helping.