When I was growing up the kitchen was a hub of activity. My dad used it as his starting point every morning, enjoying his cup of fresh brew coffee around 5 AM. The best conversations I had with my dad were early morning in that kitchen on my way out the door to go fishing. The rest of the family would soon get up and of course the meeting place was always the kitchen
Life happened in the kitchen, something was always baking, boiling or in a crock pot. Neighbours came by for a cup of coffee and conversation, we all did our homework at that table. My father loved cooking and always gave my mother a break from it. My dad loved to experiment. We were never surprised to find a new ingredient in any of his meal….even if it were a bone in a bowl of pasta!
Is it any wonder why I enjoy cooking…its about life and living it!
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