Does your family have a food outlier? By that I mean the one person who enjoys food, thinks about food and handles food unlike everyone else.
In the family I grew up in, that was my father. While my siblings, mother and I were all instinctive cooks who could throw ingredients together with ease, he couldn’t fry a steak in a pan. While the rest of us all liked desserts well enough but would rather have seconds of spaghetti, he had a raging sweet tooth.
So my mom always had some perfunctory dessert or other after dinner. Pudding or Jell-O from a mix, tapioca with fruit cocktail or her infamous “yogurt pie” fashioned from Dannon coffee yogurt, Cool Whip and a pre-made graham cracker crust.
But once every four years, something strange happened. As we all watched the election returns on TV, he would disappear into the kitchen, pull out the tattered copy of “The Joy of Cooking” and set about making fudge.
It was the strangest sight in the world: The man who would heat up a can of