Joie De Vivre Tuesday #22: Dad’s Weekend Breakfasts
Posted by Shannon on 06/21/2011
Weekends in Maple Valley meant breakfasts prepared by my dad. Most times I got to help him, which I think fostered my interest in food, cooking and the happiness that springs forth from sharing a meal with people you love.
I’d help grate raw, peeled Russet potatoes for hash browns. I clearly remember using the silver metal tower-like cheese grater to make an almost translucent mountain of potato shreds, stacked up high on a double-layered white paper plate w/ the fluted edges. He would prepped the pan with some Pam or butter, then formed little potato islands atop the dark, non-stick pan. Next, he sprinkled them with garlic powder, salt and pepper, as the rounds slowly browned and sizzled. Lifting an edge with a spatula, he peeked under the hashbrown to confirm his instinct before flipping it to reveal a perfectly browned side that received the same dusting of seasonings. He has an instinctive timing for when things are ready, never before something burns or over cooks.
Other times I played sous chef using a whisk to uniformly disperse specks of cinnamon within the egg batter our french toast would soon dip into. And then, an equal numbers of times I simply observed him on a stool pulled up to the kitchen counter. He prepares the perfect overeasy egg, can gently fold fresh blueberries into pancake mix without smushing their coloring into the batter, and narrowly avoids rogue oil splatters attempting attack from a pan of sizzling bacon.
My dad continues his as the A.M. stalwart epicurean. Even now when I come to visit from California as an adult… sleeping late into the morning. That enthusiasm for cooking a hearty breakfast for me, my mom and my sister never goes away. We enjoy our cups of coffee together, then enjoy a plated breakfast of salty-sweet-carb mixture that is equally delicious as my sensory memories from my younger years.
My dad made me this breakfast during my last visit home a few months ago. He even fixes my pieces of bacon special from the rest for me. I love my bacon “wobbly” without a distinct crunch to it.
So while weekday breakfast at the office has previously consisted of either a dry cup of Frosted Flakes mixed with Honey Bunches of Oats, or just a Red Bull… I want not while at back home during any given visit. Food is love and both my dad and my mom take the time to cook for me. I know it’s their way of silently telling me I’m still their “baby bean” that came of the plane from South Korea and into their arms 26 years ago. I always feel the love :].
My parents taught me the awesomeness resulting from the union of sweet and salty breakfast components…
…While my love of ketchup on eggs sprang forth from origins none of us can conclusively discern!
From a tiny foodie to who I am today… my joie de vivre towards food and towards life stems from these weekend meal memories I’ve shared with you.
For many, many reasons, I am very proud to be Robert Hutchinson’s daughter. Happy belated Father’s Day Dad, I love you!