My Papa was a foodie before the word was ever uttered. One winter (40 years ago) he tried to perfect flat crust pizza dough. Another time he spent months experimenting with the qualities and flavour varieties of sesame oil.
His own palate was quite simple- grabbing a plain bun and a piece of sausage for lunch, biting into a ripe pear and not gulping down his coffee until it had reached room temperature. The only food I ever knew him not to like was celery.
My habit of making “refrigerator soup” i.e stirring up a pot of whatever is in the fridge comes from my Dad. He would make amazing hams with intricate marinades and glazes from whatever he found when scrounging around the fridge; one time using up my Mom’s chokecherry jelly, the next time starting with maple syrup.
He loved steaks pan-fried in butter and would cook one up on a Saturday afternoon for his lunch. My twin brother and sister and I would sit across the table like little birds waiting for the parent to drop food into their mouths. Daddy would cut a big bite off for himself and then shave a tender one for one of the open mouths. It was his turn next and then one of ours after that. And so it went until the treat was done.
My Dad went to heaven to meet up with his two little brothers in 1997. I still remember the aromas of his cooking, his crisp and dapper look as he left each morning for the office, his easy ability to cry and the simple and yet eloquent motto he always repeated- “that’s okay.” It has been 13 Father’s Day’s without you on earth but you are with me every day. I love you Daddy.
Kath’s quote: “The fact is that it takes more than ingredients and technique to cook a good meal. A good cook puts something of himself into the preparation — he cooks with enjoyment, anticipation, spontaneity, and he is willing to experiment.”-Pearl Bailey
This is a very touching tribute to your Dad. It is easy to see where your love of food has come from:D