Ahhh… Sunday morning. Classical music is coming my way as I find my way down the stairs towards the kitchen. A smell approaches me that puts a smile on my face and lets me know what is awaiting me: my dad’s special eggs.
There is something very special about a food prepared in a particular way that you don’t eat very often, and when you smell or taste it, it brings you back to some specific memories. For me, my dad’s eggs instantly bring me back to the first decade of my life. The smell of eggs and bacon being fried in a pan, topped with Gouda cheese, and dusted with spices like cayenne pepper. Then, slid on two slices of bread, and devoured as if today is the last day I will be able to enjoy anything else.
There was something special about those Sundays. Not that this was a set weekly ritual, but it usually happened to occur on those lazy Sundays when you don’t really want to get dressed and get active. The food, combined with the classical music created a very relaxing atmosphere that I absolutely loved! Today, I occassionally try to re-create the experience. The music part is easy. The eggs, however, never seem to come out the same way like dad used to make them. He must be the special ingredient.
mlennert said
Fabulous post. I was there with you for a moment. More please!