The Misadventures of Cheri

Mortifying my kids one swimsuit at a time

Where Credit is Due

on February 4, 2012

In my post from a couple of days ago I mentioned coming from a long line of southern women cooks.  What – more accurately whom – I forgot to mention was my father.  Growing up, he was an amazing cook.  He is definitely where I saw the love of cooking before my eyes.  It wasn’t a chore for him (with the exception of Thanksgiving – but can anyone blame him?) and he showed me how enjoyable it is.

That man could marinate and grill a steak that would bring tears to your eyes.  Always rare (for me and him), always tender, always delicious.  Don’t even get me started on his bbq ribs, the salmon he smoked, and his “secret recipe” chicken.  I was the one that thought it was a secret recipe.  Then as an adult, I saw it on the back of a salad dressing bottle.

He has done the cooking for small wedding receptions and a very large funeral reception.  His secret?  No recipes.  I don’t recall him ever using a cookbook.  I certainly got my attitude of just going for it in the kitchen from him.

Thanks, Poppy!!!

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