When we spoke he said simply “I miss cooking” in the most animated, dramatic way I have ever seen. Every facial muscle employed; stuck in the worst quandary of excitement consumed by frustration. Sort of like this face, but with much more angst and a lot less Planet Earth. If he could get up and run, his kitchen would be the first place we would run to.

He most misses making meals for his family and friends. Jim is a pretty exceptional cook.
It was 3:30pm and he listed, for the better part of a half hour, all the things he would create:

He would first sit by the pool with a glass of Bubbly, some crackers, blue cheese, hot peppers from his garden and some….peaches….

“did you say peaches, Dad?”

“yes, fresh peaches”

…ok, fresh peaches.

He told me about all the vegetable pies with flakey pastry, buttery velvet melting in the mouth. About the apple pies, stuffed with cinnamon steamy goodness; as if directly from the Garden of Eden. Fresh baked bread and home-made pizza crusts.

I fear that when he is ever able to get back to his kitchen we may all become morbidly obese, because he will never stop cooking again.
He told me, and I knew because I was fed for so many years, how the roasted potatoes would be golden and crunchy on the edges, the sautéed carrots needed to have a sweet crispness with a buttery garlic finish, the broccoli would be vividly steamed to perfection, like a lawn of sea salt crusted tiny trees. How the tomato and cucumber salad would luxuriate in a delicious pool of vinegary herb heaven. He gave me the step-by-step specific, special standards that a rack of lamb would need to be served flawlessly, and how he must do a quick final sear on each side to caramelize it to superb crusted precision; bowls of fresh mint sauce waiting, drizzle ready on the side.

He crossed his eyes and whispered a series of searing noises with his silent mouth to demonstrate exactly how lush the outside would be, and it took everything I had not to jump on the bed and hug him because it was so ridiculously adorable.

I told him that if he could get up and make that lamb right away, that I would eat it all. He knows that I have not eaten meat for over 14 years. He laughed and said he would make me some salmon.

“No, really Dad, if you come home right now and cook that lamb, I will eat the entire thing and all of its relatives, get up, let’s go home”

he grins “Ok, deal”