I CAN’T BELIEVE my mother is 79 years old today. Seems like just yesterday she was 40. I was 11 years old and thought she was almost ancient. Now that I’m 50, she sounds like a spring chicken.

I was very young, around 4, I think, when Mama first picked up on my love of cooking. I’d sit in the kitchen watching her cook. I remember her letting me use the old hand beater, the kind that had a handle you turned really fast to make the beaters work to beat the eggs.

Then we’d make some masterful cake, but not on my birthday. May 30 of every year was reserved for my favorite dessert, homemade cherry pie. Forget cake.

I had a cousin, Bobby Glasgow, a boarding student at McCallie School, with whom I shared this special day. His favorite birthday dessert was cherry pie as well. It was then that I learned to share, rather regrettably, as Mama made the best cherry pie I’ve ever had.

Mama used to love to experiment with new dishes. I remember the first time she made a chocolate soufflé. Warm from the oven and topped with homemade whipped cream — nothing out of the can ever at our house — it became a family staple when company was coming over for dinner. And she loved making casseroles and experimenting with different ingredients. This was the 1960s and ’70s when casseroles were a cook’s pride.

And the parties she’d throw. As I grew into my teenage years, I’d come home late after a date some evenings and see the dirty dishes piled in the sink and tumbling onto the counters after her dinner guests had gone, and Mama was fast asleep. There were a couple of times I’d stay up till the early hours cleaning them for her, hoping this effort would make some headway in keeping her anger at a minimum for my missing curfew. I think it worked. Once.

My mother’s memory is not quite what it used to be. And it makes me sad. Our days of cooking together are pretty much over. But I still have my memories and the hope that they’ll stay with me for a long time to come.

Cooking with family is one of the backbones of society. It’s in the kitchen and at the table that we learn some of the basics in life. Sharing, working together, laughing, storytelling. Even math, though I will admit that lesson didn’t take so well. And table manners. No elbows on the table. No talking with your mouth full. No condiment bottles ever on the table. Wait till the hostess has lifted her fork until you lift yours. The lessons never ended, and though it must have seemed to Mama like I’d never learn, I was listening.

Happy birthday, Mama.

In her honor, here’s her chocolate soufflé. I’ve always been scared to make it, wondering if it would ever turn out as good as hers. With some cooks, it’s all in the hands. That’s how it was with her.

Chocolate Soufflé

1/2 cup flour

1/2 cup sugar, divided

1 1/2 cups half-and-half

3 squares unsweetened chocolate, coarsely chopped or grated

6 eggs, separated

Butter

2 teaspoons vanilla

Confectioners’ sugar

Whipped cream or chocolate sauce

In the afternoon before serving: Mix flour and 1/4 cup sugar in a large saucepan, using wire whisk; slowly stir in half-and-half until smooth. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until mixture thickens and boils. Cook 1 minute. Remove from heat. Stir chocolate into mixture until melted. Temper egg yolks in a bit of warm chocolate, then return to saucepan, rapidly beating egg yolks until well mixed. Refrigerate until cool to lukewarm, stirring occasionally.

Grease a 2 1/2-quart soufflé dish with butter; sprinkle with a little sugar. In a large bowl, beat egg whites with mixer at high speed until soft peaks form; sprinkle in remaining 1/4 cup sugar and continue to beat until sugar is completely dissolved and whites stand stiff. Fold in chocolate 1/3 at a time. Add vanilla. Pour mixture into soufflé dish, leaving 1 inch from top for expansion. Bake at 375 F for 35 to 40 minutes until knife inserted comes out clean. When soufflé is done, sprinkle with confectioners’ sugar. Serve immediately.

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