bring back the ‘stache!

As you lovely readers know, my dad Rick was diagnosed with stage 3 testicular cancer back in July of this year. Almost two weeks ago, he underwent an RPLND surgery to remove the remnants of the cancerous lymph nodes and tumors in his abdomen after completing three rounds of chemo. It’s currently No-Shave November and my dad is on the road to recovery, and growing … Continue reading bring back the ‘stache!

my dear ol’ dad

Most of my talent in the kitchen, I’ve attributed to my dad.

He’s always been very experimental with recipes, usually never even using them. My dad would still manage to come up with interesting and delicious dishes that he’d dream up all from his own head. My mom took a home movie of my sisters and I in 1987 when we were just tiny little kids, and there’s a bit where my dad is talking to my mom about some recipe he’d devised, something that I recall including a blender and cream cheese. The beginning of the conversation was cut off while recording so I’ve never known what it was that he’d made. I’m sure it was awesome. He’s known in the family for making a mean apple pie, and has been known to make several of these pies, often containing bourbon and raisins, for Thanksgiving’s past.

Dad and Babies
My dad with my twin sis and I, 1984

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mom’s oatmeal raisin cookies

When I was growing up, my mom had several go-to recipes for meals and snacks. Her homemade spaghetti sauce with ground beef was a common sight at dinnertime, as was her braised pot roast with carrots, onions and potatoes for Sunday dinner. For weekend snacks, I fondly remember eating “pigs in a blanket”, halved hot dogs wrapped in pop-open biscuit dough, dipped into obscene amounts of yellow mustard from that little bottle that looked like a barrel.

My favorite treat that my mom would make, one I remember eating for as long as I have memories of eating, was her top-notch oatmeal raisin cookies. She has the Little Yellow Cookbook, our official name for her cookbook filled with sheets of hand written recipe cards, ideas clipped out of yellowed magazines and newspapers, and recipes given to her from her sisters. This cookbook seemed to be ever-present in the kitchen, though recalling it now, I don’t remember her cooking many recipes from it. It’s one item I hope to one day call my own, as I have lots of good memories of flipping through the book’s plastic pages and marveling at all the time-worn recipes.

Cookies Done7

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