I’m always going on and on about growing up with and being inspired by my Mom’s wonderful cooking, but what about dear old Dad??
Although he wasn’t the primary cook in the house, I have very specific and fond memories of my Dad in the kitchen from when I was young.
If he wasn’t on a canning kick (we still have mason jars filled with homemade bread & butter pickles lining our basement shelves 20 years later! PS How sick is it that I can say things like 20 years later?!) he was whipping up a big, spicy batch of his famous gumbo.
Gumbo is my Dad’s DISH. He’s got this super secret recipe that he always and forever intended to only share with the men in the family (pssht!) but accidentely emailed it to me in a moment of fatherly-love induced weakness a few years ago.
SCORE! ;)
It wasn’t, and still isn’t, uncommon to walk into my parent’s kitchen on a freezing cold Saturday morning in the winter and find my Dad surrounded by mountains of gumbo making ingredients.
Oodles of onions, cups of celery, and butt-loads of bell pepper would be sautéing in bacon grease, while chopped, smoked kielbasa (which I loved to steal pieces of!) and chicken waited to join the party on nearby cutting boards.
I’d beg my Dad to go easy on the cayenne pepper he liberally added to the tomato-based broth the ingredients would soon be swimming in, and he always did his best to cater to my sissy needs, while keeping my spice-loving brothers happy. :)
Regardless of the heat level, lots of love always went into those big pots of homemade, Iowa gumbo, and we’d all come back to dunk our bowls in it over and over again throughout the entire chilly afternoon.
Lots of love also went into the big brunch we could always count on Dad to make after coming home from church on sleepy, Sunday mornings. He never failed to wake us all up by 7am sharp (by clapping, I might add) so we could attend 8am service, but he more than made up for it with the boundless buffet he’d make when we got back.
It was a free for all, I’m tellin’ ya. You wanted eggs? You got eggs. Any way you wanted em’. Scrambled for me, ’til I hit 13, then over-medium was all the rage.
You wanted bacon too? No problem. Toast? Done. A three-tiered iced cake? He’d make you chocolate AND vanilla. :)
The thing I requested more often than not though, was Dad’s French Toast.
I don’t exactly know how he does it, but my Dad has got the lock and key on the technique to moist, luscious, perfect French Toast. The outside was always golden brown and just slightly eggy, while the inside was creamy and chewy. The ratio of egg to milk was always just right, too.
He’d serve it with a sprinkling of powdered sugar, at my request, that just so took it there, and I was as happy as could be.
‘Til Sunday morning chores commenced. Can you say, buzzkill?! ;)
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Who was the main cook in your kitchen growing up? Mom, Dad, siblings, grandparents?
Aw, what a sweet post. That pumpkin french toast looks delicious! My mom was always the main cook in our kitchen when I was a child. My dad did have a few “specialties” though, including homemade tacos and pizza.
What a sweet post and I adore the pictures with the fam! My mom was the main cook, but dad could man the grill and cook up a tasty breakfast for dinner dish! :)
I love your daddy story! And what a fabulous wedding pic. 2 minutes to Dad’s French Toast! go get some, girl.
This is so sweet! My mom was the sole cook in our immediate family. I have an occasional memory of my dad making Hamburger Helper when I was younger, but otherwise my dad was (and still is!) famous for asking us where we wanted to get food when my mom was out of the picture for dinner.
We lived with my great grandma and mom growing up. It was always me or great grandma cooking. I learned to guestimate measurements and play with flavors because grandma refused to go to the store for one ingredient.
Mom! (And only mom!) My dad is known to blow up hot dogs in the microwave. We think it’s because he grew up a farm boy — and always had a hot meal waiting for him on the dinner table thanks to his sisters and mom.
Side note: I love bread pudding! Have you ever ordered Biaggi’s white chocolate bread pudding? Do it, you won’t regret it!
that picture of you and your dad gives me goosebumps! i hope that’s framed somewhere!!
My mom was the main cook growing up (unless we were grilling, dad all the way). My husband loves to cook (and his food is amazing) and I am really excited to see the traditions and memories he is able to contribute (food wise) to our family once we have children & as they grow up.
What a sweet tribune. My dad was the primary cook in our family – but he went to culinary school, so it makes sense! I love his french toast best (it really is the simple things).
That picture of you and your dad on your wedding day is precious!
My mom cooked in my family and when my mom became gravely ill while we were in high school my dad took over. Let’s just say it was not good. I learned to cook quickly because of it. Nobody in our family, extended even, has been a great cook. We all grew up on shoestring budgets so it was just basics. Then when I married my husband I was introduced to a whole new culinary world! It was so fun. :)
I absolutely love that wedding picture of you and your father. And your dress looks like it is stunning too, by the way!
Mom was definitely the main cook- but occasionally dad would whip out his famous breakfasts or sandwiches, two things that my mother hates making.
Hi Kristen! My mom was the master of the kitchen, while my dad was the master of the grill! I looove BBQ, and I attribute it to the fact that my dad would BBQ almost as much as my mom cooked! Lucky for me, they were both awesome at what they did :)
I don’t think my dad’s ever cooked anything in his life!