He seldom met a meal he didn't like
One word you won’t read in my obituary is “gourmet.” Not that I have anything against fine foods and good wines; it’s just that I’m content with meat and potatoes. Or casseroles. Or pizza. Or cheeseburgers. I wasn’t aware that people ate fancier foods until I was a teenager. By then I was hooked on Mom’s meat and potatoes home cooking which, by the way, I’ll put up against any other in the Midwest. Shortly before I left home, I foolishly began to tire of Mom’s cooking. Restaurant menus seemed more exciting. I’ll never forget the first time I visited my parents ...