My story begins the afternoon my dad broke into my mom’s apartment using a credit card.
They were dating at the time, although I think the relationship was rather new. Arriving home, my mom could smell a warm, tantalising aroma in the air; someone would be enjoying a delicious dinner that night. She wondered if they’d mind if she joined unannounced.
Turns out gatecrashing wouldn’t be necessary. Opening her front door, she was surprised to find my dad and the source of the aroma; the freshly baked bread pudding he had made.
My dad’s bread pudding would feature many times in my life. Mmmm… And his rice pudding. There would never be warning because it wasn’t a planned sort of dish. But if you spotted what he was making while it was still in the early stages, the wait was torturous, and the smells wafting from the kitchen did not help. By the time you finally sat down with your hot aromatic dish served with ice cream, you’d burn your tongue in your eagerness.
Yep. Sometimes we had pudding for supper. How cool were we.
A few years ago I asked my dad for the bread pudding recipe. A preposterous question, I realised. Books weren’t used for cooking! It wasn’t necessary. Because my dad has a knack. He can look in the fridge and in the kitchen cupboard, and from a few seemingly unrelated ingredients, create dinner.
He also cleans as he cooks. ‘Start with a clean kitchen; end with a clean kitchen’, has always been his way. Each night before we sat down to eat, the counters, stove and sink would be clean, and after dinner there would be only our bowls and cutlery to wash. *sneaks a meaningful glance at husband *
Isn’t it funny the things you learn as you grow up. It’s not always the lessons your parents try so hard to teach you. My dad never sat me down and gave me cooking lessons on how to brown onions or cook pasta or make sauces. Yet I have a knack. I can look in the fridge and in the kitchen cupboard, and from a few seemingly unrelated ingredients, create dinner. And I clean as I cook. (Also as my husband cooks; he’ll often reach for the knife or wooden spoon that he left here just a minute ago…)
As I’ve gotten older, I have realised that the gift of being able to cook has not been shared with everyone. I do think there are many people who believe they can’t cook but who actually could if they gave themselves the chance, and I hope that someday they will discover the wonder of it.
I can gratefully say I was given this gift right from the very beginning.
Thank you, Dad. Happy Father’s Day. ♥
Love, Contessa Candice
Lovely post Candice!
Thank you, Roxy! 😀 xx
*curtseys low*
Ah. The romance of a good old fashioned B&E:)
Sweet story. And a good looking pudding!
Haha! Indeed, Princess Natasha. An age-old romantic art! 😉
You mean the comedy romance, right? 😉
Thanks, Princess Natasha!
“Cleans as he cooks”. I wish my family would learn to do this. Great post!
Haha. THANKS, Prince Craig! And I do wish you the best of luck with that… 😉
What do you mean clean as you cook? Nooit! The messier the tastier the meal. And my automatic dishwasher, who eats the food I cook, does the cleaning up afterwards 😉 What an awesome post Candice. You DO have the knack. I’ve tasted it 😉 xxx
Ah, THANK you, dear Queen Colleen. 😉 That means so much, coming from you.
And… haha! King Donald does do a fantastic job as shopper, cleaner and royal food appreciator. Part of the reason we all love him so much, right? 😀 xx
Beautiful post Candice! xxx I hope your parents read it too, it is a lovely tribute to your Dad. xxx 🙂
Thank you, Anthea!! I’m so pleased you read it and enjoyed it. And you, of all people, know the fun and love and mischief my wonderful dad gets up to, haha.
I most definitely sent it to my parents… I couldn’t even wait for Father’s Day; I sent it a week early! Over eager. 😉 xx