My dad couldn’t cook rice for shit. Always put way too much water in the rice cooker. On his last Thanksgiving, he made rice with something that turned it pink, honest to God not sure if he used food dye or something else.

And I’m convinced my hatred of liver ties back to how he’d drop beef liver in various soups. I’d never know if the meat I was biting into was goat, turkey or liver until it was too late.

He also gave us food poisoning twice. Yeah, he was a shit cook. Fortunately his cooking died with him.