Spice of Life

 

      "Do you like nutmeg, Dad?"

      I  felt I knew the answer before I even asked.

     "No, I really don't care for nutmeg," he answered thoughtfully.    

     One of the things that fascinates me about Dad is his amazing palate. It seems quite extraordinary that this  man, who grew up in the Midwest, working from dawn until dusk and beyond--farming--and eating the hearty fare associated with this life, is able to tell immediately if there is a spice added to his food that is unfamiliar or not to his liking. If he asks about the ingredients, I know that something has gone wrong and the dish will not make a reappearance as presented. He does this in such a loving way that I don't take offense--I just take note.

     While going through Mom's recipes I came across one that she had clipped from the local paper. Night Before Breakfast Coffee Cake sounded good just as contributed by one Erma Reynolds of Oneida, Illinois, but Mom had tweaked it just a bit. She had added chopped apple and vanilla to the delicious sounding quick bread. What caught my eye, however, was not what she added--it was what she crossed out--nutmeg.

     There are articles and books that promise the secret to a long and happy marriage. People search for the answers by going online and on television talk shows. Spicing things up is often given as part of the formula. Mom had another idea--leave the spice out. Mom listened to what Dad said and accommodated him with small gestures that turned a seemingly ordinary union into a tender,caring and enduring love. She did this in many ways--sometimes with the mere stroke of a pen.