I have many fathers in my life, but I was terribly unmotivated this weekend and didn't do very much of anything to honor any of my fathers... I feel terrible about it...
The Papa in MA is one of the most loving fathers I know, and I see a lot of him in the Mogurin. My own father is indeed an interesting person, who, I must say, I'm not so sure how well I know. He seems simple, but I don't know if he really is as simple as he wants us all to believe. The most famous Papa on this blog, though, is the Papa Bear.
The Papa Bear has taught me many things, sometimes intentionally by testing my patience. He, as with many other dads, never ceases to embarrass his daughter by being so... ...eclectic. There are so many examples of the Papa Bear's strange ways, I can't even begin to list them all - like saving Anne's left over grilled fish skin to eat later... EWE!
As I near the beginning of my third decade, I have flashbacks of my teenage years, as I find myself rebelling against the Papa Bear and his conservative ways. He admonishes me for my reckless ways, like forbidding me from working at the Vietnamese coffee shops when I told him I wanted to go work at one to improve my Vietnamese. If I go out late at night with my girl friends, he stays awake, sleepless with distraught, just in case 'something happens' to the Baby Bear.
The Papa Bear is the Papa Bear, and with protective paws, he tries his best to keep his cubs safe. I hope my sister cubs know how much he really tries and when the teenage years strike, that they too will be able to see through their frustrations and rebellions that the Papa Bear is the Papa Bear because he really cares...
So this Father's Day, to show him my appreciation, I gave the Papa Bear the only strawberry that my strawberry plant has produced. I started the plant from a twiggy-looking thing in February, and with the same patience and love the Papa Bear showers his cubs with, I brought the plant to a bloom. The flower then turned into a beautiful red berry. I snipped the berry for the Papa Bear and presented it as his Father's Day gift. He then quartered it to share the single berry with his three cubs... which was probably a good thing, since that berry was ooooooh-boy-tart. Ops. I tried.
I then cooked a breakfast of French toast with a recipe I learned from Anne. Dipped in pancake batter instead of a egg-milk coating, these were dense and powerful French Toast slices. I added some sesame seeds to the batter for their medicinal qualities of preventing gray hair. Grilled and topped with strawberries from the Farmer's Market, kinako sugar powder, and whipped cream, I tried to pack my appreciation and my most sincere respect for all the hard work parenting really is - especially with a often cranky, moody, spoiled-rotten Baby Bear like me!
Happy Father's Day!