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Anyway it reminded of a time my Dad was cooking lentil beans in the pressure cooker. I was in my early teens. The pressure cooker explored and there were lentil beans all over the kitchen, the ceiling, the walls, floor and the stove. It was a mess. I wasn't in the kitchen when it happened but the noise made me run to see what had happened. This was in our Florida home after we had remodeled the kitchen, dinning room and added the Florida room.
My Dad was the real cook in my house. Mom cooked OK but not as good as my Dad did. He was also the shift cook at the firehouse. I can remember him making fruit cake and soaking it in some kind of liquor, wrapping it and putting it in the front coat closet until Christmas when we lived in New York. I think he stopped making the fruit cake after we moved to Florida because there wasn't any place cool enough to store it. He made chicken and dumplings and lots of other good dishes. He cooked all the Holiday meals. He made the best oil & vinegar salad dressing which I could ever duplicate. I asked him for the recipe and he laughed, he didn't really measure. A sign a true cook.
I couldn't resist telling this story, and using the memory that came to my mind today.
