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food
It used to be that my parents would keep me at the kitchen table until I met the requirements for admittance to the Clean Plate Club. Occasionally my mother would prepare a vegetable as a side dish, and my father, probably feeling a fatherly responsibility for my health but knowing full well the standoff he'd create, would scoop a small portion onto my plate. I would finish everything else on my plate as my siblings did, but because they finished their vegetables too, they'd excuse themselves to watch television in the living room or play in the upstairs sunroom. I sat alone at the table, only my placesetting remaining, while my mother finished loading the dishwasher. I remember one particularly furious battle with no more than a dozen peas, washing down each one with a half-glass of milk, at intervals of several minutes, each bite and swallow inducing a whole-body shiver of disgust. It's not that way any more. - - - This new branch of my web site (jderickson.com/food) appears now without much fanfare, spurred by my appearance as a guest pastry chef at Cafe Louis. Follow the link below for the story, and check back to this page often for new additions about my pastry and food adventures. "cook's night out" at Cafe Louis a journal of ice cream & gelato making home >> food |