My love for cooking and the years I have put in with restaurants are all thanks to Konky and Grandma. There was something very special about bringing together all of these amazing ingredients, turning on the heat, smelling the aroma both inside and outside the home and then sitting down with everyone at the table to share a meal and a great conversation. To this day, I still remember the first cooking lesson with Konky. Crepes were the first food I ever made and to this day, I still use his recipe.
Konky's first rule of making crepes: "You have to accept the fact that the first crepe is gonna get messed up. And, that is ok."
I never understood what he meant. Here I am, age 9, standing on top of a chair to watch how Konky melted the butter in the pan. The batter was gently poured into the pan and now comes the gentle swirling action. It was like MAGIC seeing the batter cover the whole pan like that! But, something indeed did happen to his first crepe! Konky would do his typical low, subtle grumble and start taking the cooked crepe out. He reduced the heat and started over. The next crepe batter went in smoothly. Konky had shared that he always forgets to turn the heat down before pouring the first crepe in the pan. Of course, he did it on purpose though. As he joked about how "Konky messed up" in a sad voice, he would start nibbling on the crepe remnants and start ooooh and ahhhhh after consuming the evidence.
He purposely had the heat up higher because he needed to test the batter. Did he have enough salt, enough sugar, enough butter, enough fluids for that matter, etc. Of course, at age 9, I had no idea. Meanwhile, we go over what it meant to have everything set up ahead of time. The plate on the stove that had a tea-towel covering the freshly made crepes was set up. The batter bowl and ladle was set up. A cup of melted butter with a large spoon was set up. And of course, the properly heated, buttered pan was already cooking the next crepe. The man made magic happen that day. That Sunday morning, I learned all about crepes, making breakfast sausage, slicing up the breakfast ham, how to scramble eggs and also make sunny-side-up for his toast-dipping habits and of course, how to set up a pretty table. Once everyone else got home from either church or taking care of errands, a fresh hot breakfast was ready to be served. We must have had eight people on average, sitting at that table together. Grandma would get seated while Konky held her chair. Konky would hold my chair to get me seated. What a special gathering! I never knew how much love could be put into the cooking and to have everyone at the table, enjoying each other's company.
Years later and before he died, my husband, daughter and I would visit Konky and we would put up a wonderful Sunday style dinner. I wanted to give back for all the years I spent living at my grandparents home by making a fresh, home-cooked meal. After cleaning things up, we would enjoy coffee at the table together and have great conversations. Those Sundays meant the world to me. It was our tradition for several years that we would spend the day with him and enjoy a meal together. After he passed away, I found myself diving more and more into cooking for the masses. Whether it was at a restaurant, helping at the local NH Food Bank or for their special events, cooking for the masses although extremely hard work, that feeling at the end of a job well done and the smiles, the hugs and the praise given to not just myself but the awesome chefs and cooks I had the pleasure of working with, brings back the wonderful memories of that one Sunday with my grandfather. It is such a great feeling to bring such love and joy to the table for other people. I know Konky would be proud!
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