Friday, March 4, was my dad’s 84th birthday, and I purposefully did things all day long that made me think of him: dropped eggs on toast, Maine shrimp for lunch at a Portland working waterfront restaurant, reading “Northern Woodlands” magazine in front of the wood stove, a snowshoe hike and a little cookie baking.
Then I read this really interesting article, about taste coming from your nose and memories. I was especially intrigued at the notion that babies in utero and nursing after birth “learn” to like tastes based on what their mom is eating, so pregnant or nursing women who eat their fruits and vegetables can later more easily entice their toddlers to enjoy carrots, because the kids already like the food from earlier exposure.
That explains why I like all the foods my dad preferred: because that’s what my mom made, and what she ate during the years she added to her young family every 18 months. Lucky me, that my dad didn’t like liver or lima beans! And lucky me that he also enjoyed baking and the occasional cooking experiment, like boiled can.
Boiled can is when you put an unopened can (label peeled off) of sweetened condensed milk in a pot of water and let it simmer gently for some hours. Cut off both ends and push out a quivering mass of caramel. Of course, the real delight is that the little kids won’t have a clue what’s in the can…….peas? cranberry sauce? So it makes a delicious surprise. It smells like warm candy and tastes like fun, dad! Thanks for that memory