She ushered us into the kitchen, and we followed. Paul slipped an arm around my waist as we walked into the large room, redolent with the odor of spices, roasting meat and fresh bread. "Alejandro" by Lady Gaga played from an iPod docked near the refrigerator. More Mom influence. My dad was more into classical, but he learned to tolerate her tastes a long time ago.

My parents had gone all out when they renovated the kitchen about a decade ago. They had ripped out all the old appliances, stripped the floors and torn down the wall between the kitchen and what used to be the downstairs bathroom. By then most of the kids had left home, and the need for five bathrooms had mostly eased. They took the bathroom space and added it to the kitchen, along with modern steel appliances, plenty of coun...

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