At first glance, these things might seem unrelated. But in my world, they are deeply connected.
My love affair with Meyer lemons began a few years ago when I was fortunate enough to receive an abundance from my mother’s neighbor’s lemon tree. Unlike regular lemons, Meyer lemons have a short season, thinner, slightly orange-tinted skin, and a sweeter, less tart flavor. They are perfect for preserved lemons, piccata dishes, and sorbet. So, whenever they’re in season I make a point to pick some up.
This year, I found myself with a fresh batch but no immediate plans for them. The best way to preserve them? Saving their juice. As I stood in the kitchen, my daughter, with time on her hands, asked if she could help. I handed her a knife, a cutting board, and the lemons.
As we worked, she shared a story about a YouTube short she had seen—toddlers using Montessori-style cutting tools at the kitchen table with their mothers. Some viewers criticized the practice, questioning the safety of allowing young children to handle knives. But my daughter thought it was wonderful.
I couldn’t have agreed more. From the time they were small, my children were always welcome at the table, learning by doing. How else would they gain confidence and competence? As we sliced, squeezed, and stored the lemon juice, we talked about the importance of teaching and learning—about passing down skills, knowledge, and traditions.
While she worked, I turned to my cookbook collection in search of inspiration for the fresh juice. I reached for Justice of the Pies by Maya Camille Broussard, a new favorite and the source of her Lemon Espresso Pie and other delicious desserts. Flipping through its pages, I found a lemon curd recipe—perfect. Then, I wandered into the section on whoopie pies and got caught up in the story of Seema R. Hingorani, the inspiration behind a recipe on the following pages.
Ms. Hingorani founded Girls Who Invest after recognizing the glaring lack of women in finance. A decade later, the organization has flourished, empowering young women to pursue careers in asset management. Reading her story at my kitchen table, beside my daughter, I reflected on the importance of creating opportunities for the next generation.
If we don’t invite our daughters to the table, how will they know they belong there?
As professional women, it is our responsibility to mentor those eager to learn, to encourage those with potential, and to create space for the next generation to join us.
While it is never too late to start uplifting and inspiring the women who will follow in our footsteps, I am grateful to have had my daughter at the table with me since she was two—or perhaps even younger. No special tools are required. Just time, attention, and a seat. And like any good recipe shared with others, the investment of time and mentorship deepens in value over the years.
At 23, my daughter moves with ease at the table—whether in the presence of a senator, a CEO, or simply a bowl of lemons. The years of invitation, inclusion, and encouragement have paid off. She knows she belongs.