With exaggerated slurping, like a connoisseur tasting a fine wine, he spoons up each section and savors it.
That was a time when produce was still seasonal; meat, milk and eggs still local; and a drive in the country was an adventure.
The grapefruit was an Indian River Grapefruit, sent by my Dad's brother, a golfer who spent several weeks in Florida in the winters. It was always a treat when the case full of those juicy yellow globes arrived.
Dad maintained a sense of wonder and joy, even through difficult and tragic times. He made a point of expanding our horizons through stories, books, car trips, and especially food.
This blog and our year of making and eating Indian food with our family is a tribute to Primo and an effort to provide our children with a sense of joy and excitement about exploring new foods and cultures.
