Today the pressure cooker I ordered was delivered. It’s all fancy and electric and does cool things. Not SUPER cool like just everything. But it does cool things like make food fast. And differently. Since I started investigating this purchase, I’ve been hoarding recipes and wondering, “Will I be able to make that in the pressure cooker?” Tonight as I made a shit-ton of deviled eggs (because I can make hardboiled eggs in the pressure cooker), I realized that I am my father’s daughter. I obsess over food.
At the Mariani Ranch, Dad had an acre garden. That garden had everything in it and he and
Mom tended it meticulously. This was so
different than a few years later when we moved to an apartment in Minnesota and
we grew bean sprouts in the kitchen. Not
the tending meticulously, as we did do that, but the size was so
different. Tiny pots and glasses versus
an acre. But still hoarding.
Growing up, Dad did not cook often. Mom did all the usual cooking with Dad
stepping in for "special projects" (like my shit-ton of deviled eggs…). One thing that Dad was really good
consistently, though, was making a big mess (yes, me, too). He'd get overly focused on creating a food
from scratch and soon every pot and pan, every knife, every dish, would be
dirty and overflowing in the sink. I
take after him in this which is why I rarely cook and when I do, it's a big
to-do (like my shit-ton of deviled eggs…).
The first time I remember Dad doing this was the Donut
Weekend. We lived on the Mariani Ranch
and I was about 5 years old. Dad decided
to make donuts from scratch. This was pre-internet and my family didn't buy
books. Donut Weekend therefore required
a trip to the library, several trips to different stores around town, and lots
of patience on Mom's part, I imagine.
Using yeast and whatnot,
Dad did make donuts. They weren't very
sugary sweet the way children like them, but it made for an interesting Donut
Weekend and likely only cost about $237 per dozen due to all the needed
purchases to make donuts that we just did not have, being non-donut makers
prior. And after, as that was the first,
last, and only donut weekend.
There was also beer-making with tubes and pipes and all kinds of
contraptions in and out of the house.
That was more than one weekend, but I'd say less than a couple of
months. Bread-making with yeasty
concoctions all over the house lasted much longer and was much more pleasant,
as the smells of warm sourdough still make me happy.
Later on in life, Dad went less crazy, but still very focused on
one thing. I remember Turkey Mole in Oregon when I visited once. It took a ton of ingredients used only that
once and a combination of recipes. It
was delicious, but I don't think he ever made it again. He collected recipes like I do, only I have
the Internet to keep them in (sites like Facebook and Pinterest); he had
clippings and binders and cookbooks and notebooks. I have those now with a scrapbooking project
in mind for them one day.
One weekend visit to Oregon, the local park had a pulled pork
contest. I wasn't a fan of pork chops so
I didn't know I liked pulled pork. We
went to the contest and walked around tasting different recipes from different
restaurants in the little paper cups they serve you catsup in. I was in heaven and even now, pulled pork is
my favorite.
I also can tell you about shopping with Dad. Grocery shopping. We would go to three or four stores with
coupons and newspaper ads, picking up different things in each store to make a
meal. Not a week's worth of meals-- just
that one big hyper-focused meal. And along the way, he'd collect things that
were cheap. I remember as a kid having a
GIANT can of new potatoes in the pantry for years (expiration dates are mere
suggestions, according to Dad).
Years. Perhaps actually close to
two decades. We never used them. Ever.
But now whenever I see cans of new potatoes, I remember that trip with
Dad when I was 12 to the dented canned food store where he saw a giant can of new
potatoes and had to have them.
But I think my very favorite shopping time with Dad was when he
was released from the hospital. My
family was visiting for a week and the morning we were to leave, we got a call
at the hotel that Dad was in the hospital with congestive heart failure. While we were there he had ignored his kidney
issues and his body rebelled. I rented a
car and stayed in Oregon for the duration of his hospital stay while they gave
him extra dialysis and got him all cleaned out.
The day he was released, he felt fantastic. It was just Dad and me against the grocery
world! We went to one shop for meat, one
for apple pie, one for spices, one for cheese, a farm stand for veggies, and
then a trip to the local farmers market for whatever we felt like. It was one of my most favorite days ever with
Dad. Makes me smile even now.
So there you have it. Dad
and food. And a shit-ton of deviled
eggs.
Unknown | January 5, 2016 at 10:00 PM
It is much more fun, now that I know you, to read your blogs. I love deviled eggs btw! I used to have a special deviled egg platter but I don't know where it is. I probably took it somewhere and it didn't come home with me.