Monday, April 30, 2007

Things you should know about my father (6)

My father didn't cook.

Hmm. That's not really accurate. He could boil shrimp so that no sauce was necessary. Oh, corn. Boiled corn on the cob was another dish he could do well. I could be wrong on this, but I think he was the one who boiled eggs in our house. Maybe he was just the designated peeler. He was also the one who grilled steaks, but he didn't grill anything else, just steaks.

I don't think it counts as cooking, but he was incredibly good at preparing salads and slicing fruit for breakfast. Every family gathering that was his job. No one else ever did it.

I know he could cook. I caught him at it when I called him while my mother was out of town. I casually asked him what he was eating for dinner (Mom always worried that Dad wouldn't feed himself while she was gone).

He answered, "Well, I'm cooking some eggs."

"How?" I inquired.

"Oh, I'm throwing in some peppers, some onions. I might even add some potatoes." Sizzling was in the background as we talked. "And peas. I've got some garden peas."

"Dad," I said in a voice that any twelve year old would understand.

"What?"

"You don't put peas in an omelet."

"You don't?"

4 comments:

Kell said...

Why not put peas in an omelet? Ha ha! What a lovely story. It's funny - I know I dont' have much time to write lately - but I've been wanting to write about my grandmother... Not the cranky one - my Mom's Mom. Now that I'm getting married, I really miss her. I miss eating strawberry ice cream with her while watching Lawrence Welk... I miss the way she said "Purdy" instead of "Pretty," when describing the Welk singers... "Oh boy, is she ever purdy..."

It makes me kind of want to get a cat - and name her Purdy.

Sarabeth said...

Kell--I know you are buys currently with house and wedding planning, but write about her. Months ago I couldn't write about my father because I didn't want the memories to leave me, as if they could. Yet, in the weeks after he died that was all I could do--write about him.

How all of y'all read those posts, I have no idea. I recently re-read them and used half a box of tissues. I have progressed in my thinking, just not in how sad I am.

Now, I write about him because these are the bits that made him my dad. My sister would probably remember some other attributes. Molly thought about his nice shirts. I wouldn't have ever written that because that was just how he was, but Molly noticed that. It was one of the things that made him Uncle Tom.

So, write about your grandmother. Preserve those feelings you have for her. I love the idea and would like to know her.

elizabeth.thomas said...

Daddy loved omelets, but no cheese in them. Or only a little for him. He wasn't a big cheese eater. He also loved califlower(sp?). I had some the other night and tasted it and it reminded me of Daddy. A piece of vegetable made me sad, happy, lonely and wanting.
Then I remembered when I made the salad that had at least one thing a member in our family didn't like: cheese for daddy, those frozen unnaturally colored green peas for me, carrots for mom and green peppers for HP (not because she doesn't like them, they don't like her!) It was so much fun - that was a very good salad.

Sarabeth said...

When I wrote this, I thought of that salad.