You
don't tell Mom that.
Ever. Ya make it the way
she wants (or let her take over the kitchen and make it herself) and bite your tongue and grit your teeth and smile as sweet as you can the entire time, as a gesture of respect. When you eat it, enjoy the history that made it happen and take sustenance from that... even if it sucks.
When you make it for yourself or your woman/kids/friends, do it your way.
That's my theory, at least. If your family is anything like mine, the actual recipe/procedure has a lot less to do with the food, than it has to do with tradition and memories. Some things just aren't worth arguing about.
ETA mind you, that's easy for me to say because everyone in my family was an awesome cook. Except for Grandma's pork chops... Good Lord, she broiled 'em till they were like shoe-leather for fear of someone getting worms.

But I ate 'em and smiled... much like my Mom's infamous SPAM and egg sammiches :barf: