My Grandma Rosie of blessed memory had a saying: “Never cheat your stomach.” Until the day he died, my father still quoted her regularly. He especially enjoyed reminiscing about the meals that had him racing home from school every day at lunchtime. My dad didn’t eat a peanut butter sandwich for lunch, and there was no breakfast cereal in my grandmother’s kitchen. Here, instead, are a few inspired examples of my grandmother’s own creative cooking style. Continue reading
Tag Archives: dad
Sulphur Springs: Memories of my Father
When my father was alive we liked to pick up breakfast at his favorite local bakery, Luna, and then drive to Sulphur Springs, a secluded area in the South Chagrin reservation of the Cleveland Metroparks that was accessible by car. I would lift his walker from the back of the car, and he would make his way to the closest picnic table, where we would sit, eat, read the paper. After a while I would walk down to the creek to take a photograph. Sulphur Springs is a moment in time. We could sit for an hour or more, and hear nothing but bird calls, the sound of water burbling over the stones, and the occasional car. Continue reading