Growing up, breakfast at our house was often a dad-led affair. Pancakes were a frequent star, but no matter the main dish, a little “baloney” was always on the side – and I’m not just talking about the deli meat.
For my dad, cooking was more than just preparing food; it was setting the stage for storytelling. As he flipped pancakes or scrambled eggs, out would come the tales. Some were from his army days, others chronicled the questionable escapades of his brothers in their youth. Like the butter melting into the warm pancakes, exaggeration and embellishment were layered onto these stories until they reached epic, Paul Bunyan-esque proportions.
Looking back, I realized these tall tales weren’t just for entertainment, though they certainly captivated the kid at the breakfast table – me. They were a unique form of father-son bonding. My dad wasn’t one for deep, heart-to-heart talks. But in a relaxed, social setting, he opened up. Even the simple act of sharing a meal, the most ordinary thing in the world, became a doorway to quality time together.
Food, in a way, acted as a silent third participant, easing the way for connection. My dad shared himself best when food was involved.
This brings us to thinking about Father’s Day. While it might not have the same level of celebratory hype as Mother’s Day, and Father’s Day brunch or dinner out might feel less obligatory, it’s a perfect time to reflect on the rituals we share with our dads.
In my experience, quality dad time wasn’t about fancy restaurants or elaborate outings. It was always more about shared activities. The hands-on experience of making something special to eat together always felt right.
If your dad is happiest around a smoker, mastering the grill, or presiding over a seafood boil, then let him take the lead. Offer to help, or simply admire from a safe distance – adjust your involvement to match your past experiences with dad’s cooking. The key is to be present with him when he’s relaxed, in his element, and doing what he loves.
And if your dad is anything like mine, you probably shouldn’t believe every word of the stories that come out during these times. But as time passes, I bet you’ll come to cherish those “Baloney Food” moments and the memories made around them.
