Today I'm going to take the time to tell one of my other favorite stories from last week's poem. Daddy's Special is the name of a favorite family recipe. The "daddy" in question is not, in fact, my own father but rather my grandfather. Daddy's Special is what we serve on Christmas morning. After opening stockings and sharing gifts we plow into a Publix raspberry coffee cake (which it's entirely likely we went to 3 stores to find on Christmas Eve) and a big 'ole heaping plate of Daddy's Special.
So what is Daddy's Special? Only the best scrambled egg concoction ever. It's a treasured recipe that's been passed down through generations in our family, that I shared with my "family" on the mission field as well, and that I hope one day to pass down to my own children (umm...and all of you, I'll share the recipe further down).
With all of the sweet memories and Christmas traditions wrapped around this recipe, imagine my surprise when I learned the true origins of this holiday dish a couple of years ago. Oh yes, Daddy's Special started out its life as "Grandpa's trick to sober everybody up and send them on their way at 3 a.m. after a Mad Men-esque night of imbibing at the swanky clubs." Say what!?!?! Oh wait, that sounds EXACTLY like my family.
Apparently, the actual story is that my grandparents were quite the well-to-do partiers in the 1950-60s. After a night out drinking screwdrivers and highballs and other things people drank in the 60s at their country club or other fancy drinking hole, they'd invite the whole crowd back for some munchies before going to their own homes. I can just see Grandpa frying bacon and whipping eggs while Grandma is chatting with her hair all done up and jewelry flashing. And maybe Bob, Rick, and Kathy on the stairs peeking down at all the fancy folks having fun in the kitchen.
As much as I love Daddy's Special (and I do, oh how I do), this story made it SO. MUCH. BETTER.
And I use the period after every word with full confidence even though it is apparently becoming passe as I see more and more blog writers making fun of it or proclaiming that they've never used it or that it's really, truly their very first and only time to use it or that it's bad grammar, whatevs, it's way fun.
Here's the receipt (British terminology and inflection compliments of my recent inauguration into the wonderful world of Downton Abby).
Get some bacon. Cut it in little bit size-ish pieces. Fry that up in a pan. Drain grease (maybe dab bacon a little with a paper towel for extra grease if you're concerned about that).
Get some tomatoes. Chop 'em up. Get rid of the gross hanging, gushy, seedy parts if you're like me and don't like them. Sprinkle some dried onion flakes over them and stir together. Toss in the pan with bacon. Cook until they're warm but not all shriveled up and super mushy.
Get some eggs. Scramble those suckers. Add a bit of milk if you do that. Then sprinkle Parmesan cheese (from the can, baby) over the eggs until there's a layer. Mix it up. Pour egg mixture into pan and scramble away.
Remove from heat when your eggs are at their desired consistency (towards the dry side, thanks). Serve big spoonfuls to waiting mouths (alongside a nice, big slab of raspberry coffee cake). Enjoy!!!
So what is Daddy's Special? Only the best scrambled egg concoction ever. It's a treasured recipe that's been passed down through generations in our family, that I shared with my "family" on the mission field as well, and that I hope one day to pass down to my own children (umm...and all of you, I'll share the recipe further down).
With all of the sweet memories and Christmas traditions wrapped around this recipe, imagine my surprise when I learned the true origins of this holiday dish a couple of years ago. Oh yes, Daddy's Special started out its life as "Grandpa's trick to sober everybody up and send them on their way at 3 a.m. after a Mad Men-esque night of imbibing at the swanky clubs." Say what!?!?! Oh wait, that sounds EXACTLY like my family.
Apparently, the actual story is that my grandparents were quite the well-to-do partiers in the 1950-60s. After a night out drinking screwdrivers and highballs and other things people drank in the 60s at their country club or other fancy drinking hole, they'd invite the whole crowd back for some munchies before going to their own homes. I can just see Grandpa frying bacon and whipping eggs while Grandma is chatting with her hair all done up and jewelry flashing. And maybe Bob, Rick, and Kathy on the stairs peeking down at all the fancy folks having fun in the kitchen.
As much as I love Daddy's Special (and I do, oh how I do), this story made it SO. MUCH. BETTER.
And I use the period after every word with full confidence even though it is apparently becoming passe as I see more and more blog writers making fun of it or proclaiming that they've never used it or that it's really, truly their very first and only time to use it or that it's bad grammar, whatevs, it's way fun.
Here's the receipt (British terminology and inflection compliments of my recent inauguration into the wonderful world of Downton Abby).
Get some bacon. Cut it in little bit size-ish pieces. Fry that up in a pan. Drain grease (maybe dab bacon a little with a paper towel for extra grease if you're concerned about that).
Get some tomatoes. Chop 'em up. Get rid of the gross hanging, gushy, seedy parts if you're like me and don't like them. Sprinkle some dried onion flakes over them and stir together. Toss in the pan with bacon. Cook until they're warm but not all shriveled up and super mushy.
Get some eggs. Scramble those suckers. Add a bit of milk if you do that. Then sprinkle Parmesan cheese (from the can, baby) over the eggs until there's a layer. Mix it up. Pour egg mixture into pan and scramble away.
Remove from heat when your eggs are at their desired consistency (towards the dry side, thanks). Serve big spoonfuls to waiting mouths (alongside a nice, big slab of raspberry coffee cake). Enjoy!!!
How did you find this out?! We clearly need to serve your mom lots of wine and ask her lots of questions @ girls weekend next month!!!
ReplyDelete