Potato Salad

I called Dad the other day to ask him what was in Mom's potato salad. It's sort of the season for potato salad and I've been lucky enough to have a few so far. All were good, but you know how a mom recipe sometimes is the only one that will do.

I couldn't remember anything about it except that it had something crunchy in it and it was good.

So I called Dad to ask.

"Uhhhh...potatoes?"

"Yes, thanks Dad. Got that. And mayo."

"A little mustard..? Hang on, I'll see if I can find the recipe."   I hear rustling on the other end of the phone and imagine him holding mom's old recipe book. The pages were all warped and they made that really great crinkly sound when you turned them. The books smelled like memories. I'd try to identify the stains net to often used recipes. Milk? Butter? Chocolate? Tomato sauce? Possibly all of those things.

"I remember something crunchy. I swear it was radishes."

Pause from Dad. "Radishes? No." His voice says that's just an absurd thought.

"Oh! Pickles? Dill pickles?"

"Of course pickles."  Ridiculous to not include pickles.

We chat a bit more about mom's recipe but decide those ingredients, along with salt and pepper 'to taste' will do it. Then he tells me about a contest he was in.

"It was for the golf course-they were having a banquet or some shit-a contest. Whoever made the best potato salad, the owner would replicate the recipe and put it on the menu. I forgot about it until the last minute and started throwing things together that morning."

I'm smiling on my end of the phone. This is totally how I cook too.

"I used red potatoes-"

"Do people usually use another kind?" I interrupt.

"I don't know. I used what was on the counter."

"Right. Ok, so red potatoes."

"Then I threw in some shrimp, used grey poupon mustard, Best Foods mayo...only the best ingredients. Mine was the first salad finished at the contest but I didn't win. The owner couldn't let me win because to make it on a regular basis would have been too expensive. So, I came in second.  Even though everyone knew mine was the best. She had to rig the contest."

"Sounds good Dad."

He chuckles, "Yeah, well. I can get creative if I want to."

He really has made some interesting concoctions. He not only likes to get creative, he likes to tell me about the process. I think he's hoping to shock me with the ingredients. It works sometimes. Like the morning he told me he had sauerkraut and baked beans for breakfast. Or the time he made scrambled eggs with spaghetti and meat sauce. My mom had books and recipe cards, dad has ingenuity.

And me? I have both.