mostly david ephgrave

I just cooked some salmon for my dad. This shouldn’t have felt like a momentous occasion, but it did. A fanfare would have been appropriate. The meal was so successful. even the fish might have let out a little cheer - if it wasn’t dead and had vocal cords, that is. Making food for my dad hasn’t always been triumphant. We've had a chequered culinary past. The worst instance was during my early teens, when he taught me how to fry an egg. It was going well until I attempted to slide it from the pan onto the plate. A combination of stress and lack of confidence caused the egg to disappear down the paper-thin gap between the oven and the kitchen wall. It was never seen again. (We laughed a lot .) Thankfully, no part of today’s meal went astray. The transition from baking tray to plate was textbook. My dad was impressed by the results. I think I may finally exorcised the demon of the missing egg. Perhaps it'll be discover...