Father's Day

If lonely J. Alfred Prufrock measured out his life in coffee spoons, for me, the measure has been in roasting, sautéing, and grilling, making meals for my family. As a parent, what your kids really think about you, is pretty much a mystery.

On my most recent birthday my sons, Frank (23) and Michael (17), decided I didn't need another pot or a kitchen gadget, because I pretty much have every kitchen tool imaginable. They decided instead to write me a memory about my cooking.

From Michael:
Every Thursday night when I was younger, doing homework, I would wait in my room for my dad to come home. He would bring home a whole chicken that he would marinate with rosemary and olive oil. My brother and I could tell when he put the chicken into the oven, because it made the whole house smell amazing.

In many families, grilling and barbecue are rites of passage. Son or daughter reaches the age when he or she can handle fire without disaster. Dad passes the tongs and secret family recipes and a new barbecue generation is born.

Well that’s how it works in theory, although in my family, my mother did the grilling and my father kept strangely silent on the subject.

So in honor of Father’s Day, I asked three barbecue masters what their fathers taught them about barbecuing and grilling. Whether you’re teaching or learning this year, Happy Father’s Day! You’ve earned it.

I have never purchased a Father’s Day card...never had to! Once, I jokingly told my mother I was going to give her a Father’s Day card, as she served as both my mom and dad, but she asked me to buy her a Manhattan instead. She was a great ol’ broad! Jim Beam 1, Hallmark 0.

My father left the family before I could remember him ever being a part of it, so two capable women – my mother and grandmother raised me. There were only a few times while growing up that I felt an uncomfortable absence of a father in my daily life, yet I harbored no ill feelings toward that “missing person.”

That can of worms was opened on June 5th, 1987, the day I became the father of a beautiful baby boy, named Matthew, and when resentment and deep disappointment toward my father bubbled to the surface. How could anyone not want to be a part of something as special and important as caring for his child?

Feeling unprepared for fatherhood and seeking the wisdom I was certain I’d missed without a “man around the house,” I joined a men’s group called “Sons Without Fathers.” After my very first session the moderator took me aside and told me how lucky I was that my dad wasn’t around. The rest of the “father-less bunch” had had their sperm donors living in their homes with them, but were emotionally absent. They were there and yet not there, which I can imagine is even more hurtful. I left the group a couple sessions later feeling sympathy for the men, but not enough in common to stay. Plus, I came to realize it’s not about the proximity, but rather input.

I've got the best Father's Day gift idea!

– It doesn't involve neck ties or golf shirts.
– There will be no trips to Lowe's or Home Depot (you're welcome, ladies).
– You get to enjoy it too.

So what is it? Risotto made with fresh Maine lobsters from Sagamore Lobster.

Now that we live in Southern California instead of New England, we really miss fresh Maine lobsters. A couple of months ago, I wanted to make risotto with Maine lobster instead of with smaller spiny lobsters (which are plentiful here on the West Coast).

Not only did I have trouble finding fresh Maine lobsters here, but when I did, they were prohibitively priced -- about $50/pound. Thankfully, Sagamore has made it cheaper to buy live lobsters and have them shipped 3,000 miles than to buy them in a store here.

Though lobster is often best enjoyed simply boiled, there is something sumptuous about a creamy lobster risotto. That's because chewy Arborio rice is cooked to perfection in flavorful broth, dry white wine, and savory San Marzano tomatoes. Silky butter and aromatic fresh parsley only enhance the flavor of the succulent lobster meat. Dad won't soon forget this dinner.