He Wasn’t Just a Soldier. He Was a Cook.

The recipes my father left behind — and what they still teach me.

When people talk about family recipes, they often mention their mothers or grandmothers.
But in my case, I inherited my recipes from my dad.

My father was a cook.
And also, a soldier.

He served in Vietnam in the 1960s. He never came back.

After he passed, I discovered a box of recipe cards — typed on an old typewriter or scribbled in his own hand — and a small collection of cookbooks. I was just 15. I didn’t understand what I had, not yet.

But over the years, those pages have become priceless.

What Recipes Can Hold

Some cards had instructions.
Some had stains.
Some had jokes in the margins.

But all of them had a story.

I found a signed copy of his culinary school book from 1948, when he was a young man studying in Chicago. Gelatin molds were all the rage. So fancy, the notes said.

Another book — his favorite — was The Pioneer Cookbook, a collection of recipes from Scandinavian settlers in the Midwest. The pages held sourdough starters, rommegrot, and traditions brought from Norway generations ago. It was practical. But it was also poetry.

There’s a line in it I’ve never forgotten:

“When the man goes into the kitchen, it will be just to care, not to impress.”

What He Left Me

My dad didn’t teach me to cook in person.
But he taught me all the same.

Through his recipes, he told me about who he was. What he valued. How he lived. And how he cared.

He reminded me that cooking isn’t about status — it’s about connection.
That food crosses time, borders, gender, and grief.
That sharing a recipe is a kind of love.

This Memorial Day

I think about my dad.
Not just in uniform.
But in an apron.
Tinkering with a roux.
Testing a new pie crust.
Writing “too salty, try less next time” at the bottom of a card.

Some people leave behind medals.
My father left behind something softer.
But no less sacred.

If you have a recipe from someone you’ve lost — cook it.
Read it. Frame it. Share it.

Because sometimes, remembering doesn’t require a monument.
Sometimes, it just takes a meal.

If you’ve ever saved a handwritten card from someone you’ve lost — or cooked a dish that made you feel close to them again —
you already know: memory doesn’t need a monument.
Sometimes, it just takes a meal.

This Memorial Day, we’re honoring that idea.

Use code MEMORIAL17 to take 17% off all kitchen tools in our store.

From timeless garlic presses to slicers that feel just right in your hands, our tools are made to last — and to be passed on.

Because every kitchen holds its own quiet legacy.
Let’s keep it going.

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