November 15, 2003

Lisa Yaconelli

Almond roca
Artichoke dip at Kincade's
Manicotti—big noodles stuffed with ricotta cheese and the Yaconelli marinara sauce poured over them and baked.
Fried coconut shrimp—a recipe he begged for from one of his favorite restaurants in Hawaii and ran around Yreka looking for a home deep fryer to make them just right.
A slice of salami, cheddar cheese, and hot chili peppers—the perfect Dad snack, although he had to relax on the peppers as he got older.
Scrambled eggs, potatoes, onions, peppers, a touch of pepperoncini juice and country music—Saturday mornings with Dad.
Angel Hair pasta—his favorite.
A piece of toast with four big chunks of butter, his eyes squinting with each bite.
Big local deli sandwiches, a bag of chips, soda, and a candy bar in a white bag—a surprise lunch waiting in the high school office when Dad forgot to make us one in the morning.
Fried spaghetti with onions and parmesan—a dish he really wanted us to serve at our restaurant.
Medium rare steak with artichokes, drizzled with garlic, parmesan, and butter one of the last meals dad cooked for me and my husband David.
"oh man, this is good"—what Dad would say after having a burger at our restaurant.

My dad was an awesome cook, a passionate cook and food lover, when I think of my dad being happy I see him in the kitchen or describing in detail his last great restaurant meal. I don't think he ever cooked a bad meal. My dad fed us well. He fed us very well.