My daughter, Gabby, has always done things her own way. When she was a baby, she didn’t crawl. Instead, she found a hilarious way to traverse a room by rolling. When she was a toddler, she wasn’t into cartoons. She became a huge fan of “The Barefoot Contessa,” a cooking show helmed by the singular Ina Garten. Gabby would watch each episode rapt, as Ina described how to make delicious food that was also approachable and made simply with easy-to-find ingredients.
With time, we began talking about Ina and Jeffrey (Ina’s beloved husband, who is a frequent guest on her show) like we knew them. Because it felt like we did. Ina has such a kind, down-to-earth, almost motherly way about her. She makes you feel comfortable in her kitchen, and by extension, your kitchen. Her voice is warm and inviting. She laughs easily and has a coterie of interesting friends that she introduces you to through their various adventures on the show.
There was a period when Gabby was 4 or 5 when she started playing pretend with Ina and Jeffrey as characters in her make-believe. One of us would have to pretend to be Jeffrey so that Gabby could be Ina. It was an unorthodox childhood game, but it was fun for Gabby. Whoever played Jeffrey would marvel at Ina’s latest dish and gamely ask how she did it.
Over time, Gabby and I began cooking Ina’s recipes together. Gabby has a complex array of developmental challenges and though so much was more challenging for her than it would be for a neurotypical child, Gabby quickly showed skill in the kitchen. I was shocked when Gabby remembered all the ingredients to Ina’s baked cinnamon donuts recipe the second time we made them.
When Gabby was in the kitchen, her challenges seemed to melt away because she was miles ahead of children her age when it came to cooking. She knew what to do with a zester. She knew different preparations of lamb. And thanks to Ina and her show, she knew about a surprising array of liquors. Ina and her friends seem to love a festive cocktail.
When Gabby was in the kitchen, her challenges seemed to melt away because she was miles ahead of children her age when it came to cooking. She knew what to do with a zester. She knew different preparations of lamb.
About five years after starting to watch “The Barefoot Contessa,” Gabby began to ask when we could meet Ina. I don’t remember what I told her — probably something about how Ina lived far away from us (by now we lived clear across the country from Ina’s house in East Hampton, New York). And maybe I said that it was possible that someday we could meet her, my heart scrambling to imagine a situation where that could happen.
In September of 2015, I saw a window of possibility when I happened to see an online charity auction listing a chance to have lunch with Ina Garten at her barn in East Hampton. I placed a bid and crossed my fingers. I wanted so badly to win that auction. I wanted it more, for Gabby, than I ever wanted anything for myself.
I quickly got into a bidding war, and lost. I was devastated.
The following year my then-husband and I were in New York City with friends around the holidays. Christmas magic was afoot in the city, twinkle lights everywhere, store windows festooned in eye-popping arrays of wonder. We sat down to breakfast at a Jewish deli on the Upper West Side.
“What do your kids want for Christmas?” my friend Jillian asked. I shook my head. “All Gabby wants in the world is to meet Ina Garten.” I didn’t know another 10-year-old who didn’t want anything for Christmas. But no electronics or fancy clothes or toys would do for Gabby. She wanted to meet her favorite chef, whom she felt she already knew.
Not 30 seconds later, my then-husband looked up and said, “There’s Jeffrey!” I raised my head from my menu in shock. Ina’s husband was in the same restaurant as us?!
“And there’s Ina!”
My jaw hit the table as I sat in stunned silence. The room spun. I had just mentioned Ina, and now she was in the same restaurant with us in a city of 8 million people?
Before I knew it, Ina and I were on the sidewalk outside the deli talking. I told her how much she meant to my girl. How Gabby had learned about cooking from her, and how much it meant to me as Gabby’s mother. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to convey how much she meant to us.
Ina told me it was so wonderful that Gabby had cooking. That it was a skill she’d be able to use her whole life. That she would be able to bring people together with her cooking. This is what Ina had done, after all. Look at us now here on this New York City sidewalk, strangers brought together by Ina’s cooking.
Ina gave me a hug, and I immediately felt awful for getting tears on her incredibly soft scarf.
When I told Gabby that I’d met Ina, she couldn’t believe it. “You did?!” she asked. “You met the real Ina?!” I assured her that I had. She asked when she could meet her. My heart sank, because of course I had no idea when or how that might happen.
Two days after I returned home from New York, I received an email from the auction house at which I’d previously bid on a chance to meet Ina. The email said that they were doing another auction with Ina and wondered if I still wanted to meet her with my daughter.
This time when I bid in the auction, I used a different strategy. And this time we won.
As the time for the auction approached, I became anxious. I knew Ina didn’t have children and wondered if perhaps she didn’t like children. I was worried about how Gabby would handle this chance to meet her idol — what if she froze? What if flying cross-country and being in a different time zone threw her off?
I helped Gabby prepare for weeks. She compiled questions for Ina, in case she was too nervous to think of them on the day she met her. We talked over and over about the plan for the day.
On the fateful day, Gabby slept in later than she usually did. Her 6-year-old brother, Grayson, and I tiptoed into her room to wake her up. “It’s Ina Day, Gabby!” Grayson announced.
We all got ready as quickly as we could and jumped into the car. We were meeting Ina for breakfast at a restaurant in East Hampton, and then we were going to walk to Ina’s kitchen to see where she filmed her show.
As we walked down the sidewalk to the restaurant, Gabby spotted Ina from what seemed like a mile away. Gabby got nervous and started to pull back. This was really happening. Ina was within feet of us. Even I was nervous.
But I needn’t have been. Ina greeted everyone with hugs. When Gabby and Ina hugged, it felt like all was right in my world.
Ina is exactly as she appears on her show — except kinder and an even better conversationalist. She is full of wonderful stories, but she also asks great questions and never dominates the conversation. Even when, for us, this day was all about her.
Gabby was shy. So we took out her prepared materials and asked Ina some of the questions Gabby had wanted to ask her. Ina doesn’t have pets, if you were wondering. She loves to eat macaroni and cheese.
Grayson filled in where Gabby was quiet, regaling Ina with stories he thought she’d find interesting. He also presented Ina with a hot pink bracelet Gabby had made for her. It seems to be made of whatever substance Crocs are made of, and Gabby affixed Ina’s name to it, along with a peace sign and a heart.
Ina gamely put it on her wrist, along with her expensive-looking watch and gold bracelet. She even smiled for a photo showing off her new neon pink jewelry.
After brunch, we walked to Ina’s house, where she showed us her stunning gardens. As Gabby and I walked through, she pointed to an herb she thought she recognized from Ina’s show. “Is that Ina’s parsley?” she asked with wide eyes. Even Ina’s parsley was famous, as far as Gabby was concerned.
Next, Ina showed us the beautiful kitchen she films her show in, and the library she unveiled on one of the episodes of the show.
The whole thing was a dream.
Ina sent us all off with hugs at the end, just as she had greeted us. This time I didn’t cry on her shoulder like I had on that cold New York morning. But my heart was bursting.
As I was hugging Ina goodbye, Gabby poked my shoulder and said, “I want to hug her.” Ina turned around with a beaming smile and said “I want a hug too.” She bent down, looked Gabby right in the eyes, and the two of them shared a hug that brings tears to my eyes every time I see the video of that moment.
Gabby went there to meet her heroine that day. But I left with a new heroine myself.