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I made a roast with a turkey gravy today
Not my usual Wednesday behaviour. In fact, I've never made turkey gravy before in my life. But I did today
Because it's my father's birthday. The first one since he died in April, of #Covid19
/1
Not my usual Wednesday behaviour. In fact, I've never made turkey gravy before in my life. But I did today
Because it's my father's birthday. The first one since he died in April, of #Covid19
/1
Odd thing to do to mark the occasion, maybe. But I promise, it isn't
My dad was obsessed with gravy. Like, pathologically so. He was the king of it. He'd do 'practice' gravies (plural) at Christmas. He didn't mess around, to say the least
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My dad was obsessed with gravy. Like, pathologically so. He was the king of it. He'd do 'practice' gravies (plural) at Christmas. He didn't mess around, to say the least
/2
A few years back he got a hot tub in the garden, one of those big deluxe models. And I always had a genuine concern that I'd go down one day and it would have been full of gravy
Would have kept it warm, at least
/3
Would have kept it warm, at least
/3
As you can imagine, given all the time and effort he spent on it, Dad's gravy was of legendary quality. You could (and he often did) drink it neat. It was a glorious meaty ambrosia.
And he always told me turkey gravy was the best
/4
And he always told me turkey gravy was the best
/4
Annoyingly, that's ALL he told me about it. Wouldn't give away his recipes or gravy-making methods. I asked him for the recipe one Christmas when I was cooking and he fobbed me off with a Jamie Oliver one
/5
/5
Didn't even tell me it wasn't his usual recipe until February. He hadn't even tried it himself, he just 'thought it looked decent', so used me as a Guinea Pig to see how it went.
He never shared his methods, the prideful sod
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He never shared his methods, the prideful sod
/6
And now, he's gone. And while it's a minor thing compared to everything, his gravy has gone with him. And that's a shame.
And it's his birthday today. So, I figured the best way to honour him would be... to make gravy.
It makes sense in context
/7
And it's his birthday today. So, I figured the best way to honour him would be... to make gravy.
It makes sense in context
/7
I'll probably do it every year on Dad's birthday, to gradually improve, to try to eventually make a gravy as good as his. He'd like that
/8
/8
Thing is, I'll probably never succeed in making a gravy as good as Dad's, and I KNOW he'll like that. He was relentlessly competitive, and seeing me fall short of his standard would amuse him greatly
/9
/9
That's the thing about grief. It's often shown to involve flowers and ceremonies and religious rituals. But much of the time, you work through it and pay tribute in individual ways, like experimenting with meat-based liquids.
If it feels right, then it is right.
/10
If it feels right, then it is right.
/10
So now, weirdly, it seems I've appointed myself an impossible life goal of making the ultimate turkey gravy, in honour of my old man.
Happy birthday, Dad. It is ON!
Happy birthday, Dad. It is ON!
