Seems
everyone's mom was the best cook in the house. Not so in my
family .. it was my Dad. He cooked everyday and introduced me to coffee
early on.
“Exploding Spaghetti”
Mom was never a very good cook. Dad did all of the cooking and he was pretty good at it. He could cook traditional Chinese dishes like steamed-fish in black bean sauce to lobster Cantonese. He could also cook American dishes such as creamed peas, fried chicken and spaghetti. Anyway, whenever Mom wanted to ‘cook’ something, she always set the burner to HIGH. We couldn’t foresee at that time .. that was her version of the microwave for extremely fast cooking. One day she decided to ‘cook’ some canned Chef-Boy-R-Dee’s spaghetti. She empties the can into a sauce pan and places the lid on, then turns the burner to HIGH. Five or six minutes later, I heard a loud explosion and the clanging of metal. I rushed to the kitchen and saw the lid on the floor and spaghetti sauce all over the wall up to the ceiling. Apparently, the lid was sealed to the pot by the over-spill of sauce from the can. It scared the crap out of her … she rarely ‘cooked’ again until years later. Whenever I was home from college and even when I visited her in New York, she would make breakfast without asking, so that by the time I was awake, it was cold, but I ate it anyway as I knew she was ‘taking care’ of me.
“Coffee with Cream and Sugar”
Another one of my earliest memories was my first drink of coffee. Again, I remembered it to be a Saturday morning, associating the hustle and bustle noises in my father’s store, and his coming and going from the store to the living quarters we called home. I was in a crib, but I don’t know or recall my age at the time. I just remember I was whining and standing in the crib. Not too much longer, he passed by into the kitchen, and returned with a baby bottle for me. I now know that it was sweetened coffee and cooled by milk. It seemed to be just what I needed and it was wonderful. That is the only way I like my coffee. I am not sure if my mother was there or not, but probably not.
Mom was never a very good cook. Dad did all of the cooking and he was pretty good at it. He could cook traditional Chinese dishes like steamed-fish in black bean sauce to lobster Cantonese. He could also cook American dishes such as creamed peas, fried chicken and spaghetti. Anyway, whenever Mom wanted to ‘cook’ something, she always set the burner to HIGH. We couldn’t foresee at that time .. that was her version of the microwave for extremely fast cooking. One day she decided to ‘cook’ some canned Chef-Boy-R-Dee’s spaghetti. She empties the can into a sauce pan and places the lid on, then turns the burner to HIGH. Five or six minutes later, I heard a loud explosion and the clanging of metal. I rushed to the kitchen and saw the lid on the floor and spaghetti sauce all over the wall up to the ceiling. Apparently, the lid was sealed to the pot by the over-spill of sauce from the can. It scared the crap out of her … she rarely ‘cooked’ again until years later. Whenever I was home from college and even when I visited her in New York, she would make breakfast without asking, so that by the time I was awake, it was cold, but I ate it anyway as I knew she was ‘taking care’ of me.
“Coffee with Cream and Sugar”
Another one of my earliest memories was my first drink of coffee. Again, I remembered it to be a Saturday morning, associating the hustle and bustle noises in my father’s store, and his coming and going from the store to the living quarters we called home. I was in a crib, but I don’t know or recall my age at the time. I just remember I was whining and standing in the crib. Not too much longer, he passed by into the kitchen, and returned with a baby bottle for me. I now know that it was sweetened coffee and cooled by milk. It seemed to be just what I needed and it was wonderful. That is the only way I like my coffee. I am not sure if my mother was there or not, but probably not.
