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?
Oh my gosh, I need to make that!! Your dad sure knows his stuff in the kitchen. :)
The main cook in my family was definitely my mom and now me (well, when I’m home visiting anyway). My dad and brother would be lucky to know how to turn the stove on.
I can not stop crying!! That wedding picture of you and your dad dancing is beautiful!! My dad passed away when I was 19. I have a lot of great memories of him….one of which is cooking related. He tried to make my nana’s pasta fagioli, he didn’t put enough liquid in the beans so when he added the pasta is turned into a starchy clump of pasta and bean mixture……hilarious!! We ate it anyway because we didn’t want him to feel bad….lots of water was consumed during that meal. LOL
Bummer – I hate it when I try a new recipe and it bombs. If you’re interested in a second try, I recommend this pumpkin bread pudding (skipping the pumpkin bowls – just throw it in a casserole dish): http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/21492989/ns/today-food/t/baked-pumpkins-filled-pumpkin-bread-pudding-topped-pomegranate-sauce/
My dad also is a French toast master. While I love cooking, I butcher French toast and have only gotten around to getting pancakes right. Never ending process!
My Mom was the main cook, but my Dad made some mean toast! Your pumpkin french toast looks divine! I also LOVE your wedding dress. I’m about to start wedding dress shopping and am super excited!
My mom was the main cook at our house. My dad could really only make pancakes and waffles. And then he was on a muffin kick for a while, I don’t remember what that was about. Otherwise he would occassionally help my mom stir a pot and then he would claim that he had made it, haha, nice!
my mom was the main cook. my dad grilled and made pancakes. a couple years ago, he made a batch of cookies. it was so impressive that we took a picture. :)
This is such a sweet post! I love the picture of you and your dad at your wedding. So beautiful :)
My mom did all of the cooking in our house. I wish that my dad would have done more cooking or if all of us could have cooked together. I think it would have been fun and memorable.
This is such a lovely ode to your Dad! I have fond memories of cooking with both my parents. Mum did most of the everyday cooking but on the weekends Dad would teach my sister and I how to bake. Thus the lifelong affair with butter, sugar and flour began :)
That last picture, omg! So beautiful and full of love.
my dad was NOT the cook. to be honest, can’t remember a single meal he ever made!! worked out well, though, because my mom loves the kitchen. dad’s dinner nights were reserved for our favorite…. pizza delivery!
That is such a GORGEOUS picture of you and your dad! I can’t wait for wedding photos someday! And thanks so much for the recipe for the gnocchi that I ended up making tortelloni with! I just made the gnocchi today and it was SO good!
That picture of you and your dad at your wedding is just stunning!
What a gorgeous picture of you and ur dad at ur wedding! *weepy*