I’ve mentioned before that my dad taught me to cook. A grocery man for most of his life, he also taught me how to plan a menu, shop for groceries, and entertain a crowd. Some of our favorite activities revolve around food: buying it, cooking it, talking about it, and of course eating it. We come by it naturally: most of our family food lore comes from his side of the family. The good (just about everything his grandmother made), the bad (his mother drank vinegar – straight up) and the ugly (the time his dad cooked – not reheated, but actually cooked – a leg of lamb in the microwave). Because of my dad, I grew up with a man in the house who flew in the face of all the distant-dad-who-occasionally-grills-burgers stereotype.
And let’s not forget the father of my child, my sweet husband – the taster of new recipes, the entertainer of the toddler interloper, and my chief cheerleader and dishwasher. He is enthusiastic and ebullient when dinner turns out well, and diplomatic and kind when it doesn’t. He is, bar none, the best dad I could have imagined for our little family.
Happy Fathers Day – cheers to the dads, granddads, and dads-to-be!