"When ManCub2 said he wanted to make peanut brittle my heart zinged. He had no idea that his grandfather perfected a brittle recipe like a mad scientist and happily handed out the results for the holidays. I loved watching my dad add the baking soda so that the mixture frothed up just like in chem lab. I dug out the old recipe but didn't really look at it until ManCub2 started laughing."
"Sure enough. The classic font was unmistakable, though I thought it might have been printed from an early computer. My dad liked his gizmos. I loved seeing my dad's voice again and the careful details. He helpfully offered that he bought peanuts "in bulk in the nutrition dept." After suggesting a few variations, he couldn't help but add, "You know, whatever turns you on." And wow. I had forgotten he had typed the recipe just for me. It's signed "Cheers and Luv, Dad.""
"Like the Goldilocks story, the first batch was too burnt, the second batch was too light, and the third batch was just right. Following in my dad's holiday footsteps made me think back to being home for winter break during my senior year of college and having to go to work during a snowstorm. Dad insisted that he pick me up himself, and when I climbed into the car he handed me a thermos. I took a sip, astonished to find hot-buttered rum."
A narrator rediscovers a grandfather-perfected peanut brittle recipe and recreates it with a child, recalling the dad's precise, typed instructions signed "Cheers and Luv, Dad." The vintage recipe required adapting cook times because modern microwaves are more powerful, producing one burnt batch, one too light, and a final just-right batch. The process evokes a memory of the dad handing a thermos of hot-buttered rum during a snowstorm pickup in college. The narrator reflects that family stories and traditions bridge generations, soften differences, and generate warm, shared memories and joy.
Read at Oregon ArtsWatch * Arts & Culture News
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