Sunday, January 11, 2009

A Toast to My Dad

My father was a restauranter.
The first restaurant I recall his involvement was Sap's in Greenwood.
As a little girl, I loved to go and visit him there.
We would come in the back door entrance which came right into the kitchen.
There my father would often be standing frying potatoes on a large grill.
I loved those potatoes.
We would then go through the swinging door into the dining room.
I would often sit down to the counter with my red ponytails swishing and order butterscotch pudding or buttered toast.
The pudding came out of the small pass through fridge in the wall.
For the toast, however, I watched carefully each detail of the preparation.
They took the white bread and put it into the 4 slot toaster.
When it popped up, they would take a small ladle of melted butter and pour it over each piece of toast.
They cut into triangles and served it to little me waiting at the counter.
I love buttered toast to this day.
I could eat it all day.
When I order breakfast out, my favorite part of the meal is always the buttered toast.
I could even eat it for supper which is what I did tonight.
Toast tonight in memory of my daddy whose 71st birthday would have been yesterday.

3 comments:

  1. Lovely essay. I always appreciate any reminder that it is the little things, the simplest things, that register most strongly in our memories of those we loved and lost. A very nice piece, and makes me hungry for buttered toast!

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  2. Wow, 71, how time flys! I sure do miss my Daddy. I remember more of the Buffy in Columbus than anything. Chicken Legs broasted just so. Yummy! A toast to toast (buttered that is) chicken legs and our Dad! Love you Seester!

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