Wollf left a comment on my food blog which opened the door for many wonderful memories to walk across my mind today. I had great fun reliving food experiences with my Dad.
He worked six days a week, and had a quick breakfast on these days; but on his day off (Sundays) he liked to cook. He would start out by putting coffee on to perk and then prepare himself some bacon and eggs. This tradition continued long after we all married and left home. When we vacationed at home, many of us would make sure we were up out of bed in time to have breakfast cooked for us by Dad.
After breakfast, he would throw together a batch of whole wheat rolls to serve with the roast beef he was going to cook for Sunday dinner.
Shortly before I got married, he started making clam chowder for supper on Friday nights. I was the only other person in the house who would eat clam chowder, so he would make a small batch for the two of us. For many months after I got married, I would walk back up home on Friday nights just to join him for chowder night.
In later years he started having some Saturdays off and he got into making pizza or lasagne or sweet and sour spareribs; but those memories belong to some of the younger children. I know about them but was rarely there to be a part of them.
We seem to take for granted those endless meals our mothers prepare for us while treasuring the few that our fathers prepare.
My second husband endeared himself to my grown daughter and two granddaughters by cooking them their own special pancakes every now and then shaped in their initials. They felt so loved every time he did this for them.
And until he died, Christmas mornings were special because he and my son would cook breakfast for us "womenfolk". Needless to say, it became the most special breakfast of the year.
Bet you Dads didn't realize what long-lasting memories you are creating in the kitchen.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
My Dad could not cook which was a great source of amusement and laughter in our family. The only thing he could do was fry tortillas when we made tacos. For some oddity, he never fried them too crisp or too limp. I did have an uncle who I loved dearly. He always made oatmeal for me and put raisins and brown sugar in it. It always made me feel special - because I was special in his eyes.
Delightful memories Rose....
For you Rose ~
Individuals who "will" themselves to benefit from adversity become "pathfinders"; real life champions who, by refusing to go under in th onslaught of a life accident {such as a death, divorce, etc.}, emrge victorious.
As Wollf says, everything is put in our path to learn from. We can learn the lesson quickly, or drag our feet as I have a tendency to do; but learn the lesson, we Will.
And about Dads (and Uncles) and cooking. Yep, that is exactly what I am talking about. Those cherished memories live as long as we do. Who would have thought!
"No one who cooks, cooks alone. Even at her/his most solitary, a cook in the kitchn is surrounded by generations of cooks past, the advice and menus of cooks present, the wisdom of cookbook writers."
Author/Laurie Colwin
That is so true. I never cook one of my dad's recipes without thinking of him. I never see my mom's favorite foods without thinking of her.
My husband's specialty was fish & chips. Every now and again, he would cook a feed for all of us. He could do them better than any you could buy. It was something I could not bring myself to take over cooking at home - too painful. The memories of him are too strongly associated with that meal being prepared in our kitchen.
Thanks for keeping in touch. I love the opportunity to dialogue. Never pass up the chance anywhere I go.
Post a Comment