My father grew up not only in the Great Depression, but his father walked out the door when he was about 6 or 7 years old (we never quite knew the WHOLE story)....leaving my Dad, his Mum and a younger sister. At a very early age my Dad felt responsible for caring for "the family". He would do all he could in the way of odd jobs to feed his Mum (who had limited skills in education and English), his sister and himself. One of the places he was lucky enough to find work after school was at a farm that raised turnips and rutabagas. The old farmer took a liking to my Dad so he often gave him (besides the few cents a day he earned) a burlap sack full of turnips and rutabagas "to give to your Mum".
It's a very complex story, because his Mum didn't want anyone to know her husband had left her, so she began to dress in black and call herself a "widow". Anyway - because my Dad brought these precious veggies home for all to eat (it was about all they had to eat) - he began to think of them as "GOLDEN" veggies.
When my Dad was about 14 years old, he quit High School and had his Mum (who didn't know what she was signing) declare him to be 18 and joined the Navy. He learned a lot in the Navy and always sent money home to his Mum and sister. He completed his High School equivalent (later, he would become an engineer at Case-Western University - through night school). He is one person I really have admired and am grateful he was my Dad and also that I occasionally got to hear "glimpses" of his past. At this point I would like to stop and tell ALL my readers to please APPRECIATE your Mum and Dad while they are still alive; love them!
ANYWAY - growing up in Asia, I never knew anything about "turnips or rutabagas" - they simply didn't grow there. My Dad used to tell me about these GOLDEN veggies in such a way (well, he was a natural-born story teller anyway!) that I would drool and felt I almost could taste these "golden veggies" as I took each bite (in my imagination).
Fast forward about 40 years and my Dad (then in Florida) invited me to partake in the BEST meal "he could ever make" (his words, not mine!). Mind you, my Dad had taught himself to become a gourmet chef....he could make Japanese or Chinese cuisine, make his own breads, dabbled in Indian and Sri Lankan curries, and everything he made was delicious! So he served me a casserole made of turnips and rutabagas. Imagine, thinking these were the GOLDEN veggies and anticipating same. I took one bite and gagged....these were HORRIBLE tasting veggies!!! I would have rather eaten DIRT than eaten these disgusting veggies!!! Still, I loved my Dad so much that I didn't want to "disappoint him", so I smiled as best I could, GULPED (sipped a lot of water!) and said "Oh yeah, Dad, they're delicious!!" "Here, have some MORE" he said, piling the disgusting tasting veggies on my plate.
I cannot STAND turnips or rutabagas to this day. I am glad I ate them that evening in front of my Dad - it meant a lot to him and I loved him SO MUCH.
My Dad, in making that casserole, was giving me a huge part of his past and his heart and for that I am always grateful, but I will NEVER learn to "love" eating turnips or rutabagas!
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