The idea for recording examples of my Father's singularly unique and frequently counter-intuitive experiments in cuisine existed before this blog did, so we will begin with the incident that inspired the whole enterprise, which happened a couple summers ago.
Living in the same city as my parents allows me to take advantage of the guilty pleasure of popping in completely unannounced and catching them off guard. The backdoor to my parent's house leads straight to the kitchen, my Father's favorite room in the house, so its not rare to catch him red-handed mixing kimchi with mayonnaise or pouring jerk sauce over sliced wheat-bread. On one such occasion, my Mother was out of town and my Father thought he had the place to himself. What a great opportunity to come bursting into the kitchen! Upon so doing, my nose was immediately walloped by an overpowering and complicated smell, mostly garlic and meaty, as if a line cook who had just worked a triple were slapping me across the face. My Father turned sheepishly to greet me.
"Dad, what are you eating?"
Mouth stuffed, he replied by extending a hand, in which there rested a stinking pink wad. Raw onion loaf batter? No, much worse. Turns out the menu du jour featured raw hamburger, stuffed with raw garlic cloves, with a slice of wonder bread sort of pounded into a mantle around it. "Your Mom doesn't really let me get away with this sort of thing. Want some?"
The stench really can't be exaggerated. It's amazing that he could get it close enough to his face to put it into his mouth. I excused myself but could still smell the "burger" two rooms away.
Apologies to my Dad for ratting him out to my Mom.
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