My dad has two loves, his music and his food. One of my first and favourite memories is of trying to wait up for him to come home from a gig, when I was three years old. I fell asleep, but I woke up when I heard him come in. When I ran to greet him he put me up on his shoulders and we went out into the warm summer night for an ice cream cone.
We grew up in the mono culture of early nineties Barrie. But we must have tried every type of food. My dad would often drive an hour to Toronto to buy curry goat. We might have been the only kids in town to have eaten goat, and we loved it. He fostered our minds to be open to other cultures and other flavours. Something which I will always be grateful for.
My relationship with my dad has had it's ups and downs. Neither of us is perfect. It has just really been in the last few years that I've realised how much we are alike. Dad has a photo album of food he's made right up there on the shelf beside family photos, and I obviously photograph a lot of my food. I get just as excited as he does over a great cut of meat. He never measures, and I don't think he has ever followed a recipe. I'm a little more structured here, but I learned to improvise and be creative from him. We're always thinking of the next dish we'll try. We both have restaurant dreams.
He lives 1001 miles away from me, so we won't be together this fathers day. But I know what he'll do. He'll go fishing, come home and cook a huge meal, and he'll probably invite the neighbours. He loves to feed people, so becomes fast friends with everyone. He'll have a beer instead of dessert while he puts on an inpromtu concert of his newest songs. Wish I could be there! Happy Fathers Day!
xo
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