By Marisa Renwald
One hundred years ago in the state of Washington, the first Father's Day was observed on a bright Sunday afternoon after a church function. There must have been a charcoal grill present on that day because barbecued food has become the iconic symbol of this holiday, much as the fruitcake denotes Christmas or a spring brunch epitomizes Mother's Day.
If you're looking for a Father's Day dish to prepare, go ahead and type that very entry into any search engine and you'll be bombarded with a plethora of grill recipes, barbecue articles, and feel-good stories that seem to tell us that the only way to say "I love you" to the man that carried us on his shoulders, taught us to shave and shot dirty looks to our prom dates is by letting him grill a steak.
We seem to have this preconceived notion in mind of the perfect Father's Day: surprising dad in bed, grinning stupidly while yelping "Happy Father's Day!" the moment he rubs the sleep from his eyes, then shoving a pair of tongs in his hands and hustling him out the back door to spend the rest of his very special day sweating over a hot grill.
I kind of wonder how many dads really do enjoy grilling out on Father's Day. Isn't that what Memorial Day, Independence Day, Labor Day, birthdays, and every other sultry summer day is for? Don't make dad work on his day — give the guy a break.
To make things worse, every food magazine or Internet recipe that features these grilling recipes showcases some obscure ingredient that most dads would probably end up scraping off of their food anyway. A recent google search for "Father's Day recipes" provided the following hits: "sun-dried tomato and fennel sausage patties with creamy polenta," "harissa-marinated top sirloin tips" and "grilled flank steak with chimichurri." Let's have a quick show of hands: How many dads out there would include any of the latter in your list for meals you would most like to eat on Father's Day? That's what I thought.
The truth is that dads like simple flavors. Think back to your childhood and what exactly it was that your old man snacked on. Boring-looking desserts with poppyseeds or nuts. Toast and black coffee. And when Sunday morning arrived and a dozen mixed doughnuts treated the family, it was the plain cake doughnut he'd reach for first (luckily leaving us the ones with cream filling and sprinkles).
The same should apply now. On Mother's Day, you can get away with flourish and glitz. Moms love to be primped, pampered, and fussed over — the fancier you get, the better. But on Father's Day, the meals should be pure tasting, straightforward and simple.
That isn't to say that dads are uncultured in their tastes: it's quite the opposite. In fact, most dads, much like the French, know what tastes good and what flavor combinations work. They must have something in their noses, right alongside that compass-like sense that always knows the right direction. If you're ever experimenting in the kitchen and want to know if something tastes good, just ask dad. The old adage "Father knows best" is so very appropriate here.
So when preparing a dish for Father's Day, keep in mind that pops would prefer as few flavors flooding his mouth as possible — probably somewhere along the lines of one. Granted, it's a stereotype, but I think I'm fairly accurate in my assumption. Forgetting the dad-to-grill association and all of the fancy recipes that the Internet and cooking magazines offered for Father's Day, I had to stop and think: what is it that my dad would truly cherish? The answer was so simple, it was almost heartbreaking.
A cherry pie.
Maybe with a little scoop of vanilla ice cream on top. No panache, no cheesecake filling, no added flair. The simplest recipe I could find — sour cherry pie with lattice-topped crust — works wonderfully. Very few ingredients hinder the flavor of perhaps the greatest pie filling on earth, and a homemade crust that melts into buttery flakes really makes the dessert. Just a splash of almond extract glams up this pie by bringing out the cherries' natural flavor. Although sour cherries have a rather short season and are sometimes difficult to find in the grocery store, they are always there in the frozen food aisle — considerably a better option since they are always ripe and pitted.
In addition to saving your dad from working all day on the grill, a homemade cherry pie, wrapped up nicely in a box with a ribbon, makes a delightful Father's Day gift. Unless, of course, dad is allergic to cherries, in which case, you might want to switch to another classic — apple pie.
Sour Cherry Pie
FOR PASTRY:
2 cups plus 3 tablespoons pastry flour
1⁄4 teaspoon salt
1⁄4 teaspoon baking powder
9 tablespoons cold cream cheese
12 tablespoons unsalted cold butter, cut into pieces
1 tablespoon cider vinegar
1 tablespoon heavy cream
1 tablespoon sugar
FOR FILLING:
3⁄4 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
7 1⁄2 teaspoons cornstarch
Pinch salt
1 1⁄2 pounds (4 to 5 cups) fresh sour cherries, stemmed, pitted
1⁄4 teaspoon almond extract
To make pastry: Whisk flour, salt and baking powder together in a large bowl.
Use fingers to work cream cheese into flour mixture until mixture resembles coarse meal. Use 2 table knives to work in butter until mixture is flecked with pea-size pieces of butter.
Sprinkle in vinegar and 2 tablespoons ice water, tossing lightly with a rubber spatula. Turn out onto a lightly floured surface. Quickly knead dough until smooth.
Divide dough into 2 balls, one slightly larger than other. Flatten each into a disk. Wrap each in plastic wrap. Refrigerate for 1 hour.
To make filling: Stir sugar, cornstarch and salt together in a large bowl, then stir in cherries and almond extract. Allow cherries to macerate for at least 10 minutes and up to 3 hours.
Put a baking sheet on middle rack of oven and preheat oven to 425 degrees.
Roll larger disk of pastry dough out on a lightly floured surface into an 11-inch round, then ease into a 9-inch pie pan.
Stir filling, then transfer to pastry.
Roll remaining dough out into a 10-inch round and cut into six 11⁄4-inch wide strips. Weave strips on top of filing in a lattice pattern and fold edges under. Brush strips with cream and sprinkle sugar on top.
Set pie on baking sheet and bake until crust is golden brown, 40 to 50 minutes. Let pie cool for several hours before serving.
— Source: Saveur Magazine, Issue No. 76, www.saveur.com
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