When I saw my father take out the black cast-iron skillet, I knew that a favorite of mine was going to hit the table within 30 minutes. This morning food magic happened while the coffee pot was percolating cheap java with chicory and the cooked bacon sat waiting. Lard, white flour, salt & pepper, milk, in that order would be turned into white gravy. There was no recipe or cookbook. Skillet hit one of the four burners. First, a scoop of lard out of the lard-jar melted in the heated pan. Then the flour. His hands moved with purpose and confidence. His large, dented, stainless steel spoon with a wooden handle was part of his system. He’d stir the stuff using a smooth circular motion, blending and blending the grease with the flour until he saw the right consistency. Next, milk was slowly added while the stirring continued. Both of his hands were in action. Stirring with patience and watching for the right moment, he’d add the salt and pepper. And voila, there was the white gravy.
We’d eat it on white bread and beg for more. If we were really lucky, the gravy topped some of his homemade biscuits to complete this Virginia country beginning for the day. Chipped beef-gravy, red-eye gravy and sausage gravy made by him were also favorites.
Dang, I would love to have some of Daddy’s white gravy, but even more than that, I’d give anything for kitchen time with him and watch the magic he made for us.
What’s your Daddy food? Would enjoy you sharing about your Daddy Food as we approach Father’s Day.
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