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He would start the day before cutting and toasting bread cubes.
Peeking through the kitchen doorway again, I’d see him chopping onions and celery, melting butter in a large pot, pouring in some liquid, tasting, seasoning and stirring.
When we were finally all seated at the dining room table, it was my father’s dressing that was always the biggest hit.
I hadn't developed a taste for mushrooms yet and would always query him if he had put any in the dressing.
“No,” he would say, “just eat it.”
It was never dry. Rather, it was very moist and comfortable feeling and it left me smiling and reaching for seconds.
As the years went on, the reputation for my futner s dressing spread among our family members and each Thanksgiving it was the one dish that everyone looked forward to the most - Dad s moist stuffing with unmistakable good flavor.
My father passed away 12 years ago.
The first Thanksgiving that occurred after his death, my sister was in Oregon and I here in Virginia I can t recall which one of us called the other but it was with the same question - “Do you have Dad’s stuffing recipe?”
“I think he may have put some soup in it,” said my sister.
“Well, I do know now that he used mushrooms,” I replied.
In our long history of living with this man who migrated to America from an island culture, we never thought to preserve this recipe that I believe was never written down.
Since my mother stayed clear of him when he was preparing this dish, she didn’t recall how he did it only that it was very good.
Every year or so one of us will lay claim that we’ve replicated Dad’s dressing but I know it is not so.
This year as I prepare to celebrate Thanksgiving I have stuffing on my List. It is one of my children’s favorites and while I’d like to say it’s a recipe refined by their grandfather I cannot lay claim to that, I can only savor the memory.
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