Inspired by the Apron

Welcome!

I have been blest with a wonderful family full of love, laughter and food.

The inspiration for this blog is my Bumpie. What is a Bumpie you ask? A Bumpie is someone who taught me that work can be fun. A Bumpie isn’t afraid to try new recipes with a stand-by of Kentucky Fried Chicken a phone call away. A Bumpie is a family man and full of life. A Bumpie is someone who had impeccable timing to get me out of troubles at the exact right second. A Bumpie would convince me that cooking was an adventure. A Bumpie would be patient and want to hear all about what was going on in life. A Bumpie is who to call with obscure questions, because chances are he knew the answer. A Bumpie … the list could go on for quite awhile and will as this blog evolves.

For Christmas my Mom aka Gig, gave my sister, future sister-in-law and I an apron made from one of Bumpie’s shirts. Those shirts hold magical powers and thus have transformed my kitchen inspiration to think outside of the box. This blog is about the inspiration I have from you, Bumpie … your love for your family, cooking and living life to fullest. So Bumpie, here’s to you! You are forever loved and deeply missed.

Melissa

I truly believe that this Apron has magical powers. It has been a busy few days of cooking here.

Friday – tavern pot roast, garlic baked potatoes & asparagus with balsamic glaze.

Monday – Guinness Irish Stew with Puff Pastry Topping

Tuesday – chili, sometimes the Apron decides to go the simple but hearty route

It would never seem like “work” when you cooked with Bumpie. You’d be busy chopping veggies, running down the stairs across the basement to the root cellar with clear instructions on where something was to bring back for the recipe (sorry Nana – yes we ran down the stairs and in the basement), climbing thru the opening on the landing to get a specific pot/pan or standing on the steps pulling out spices from the one of a kind spice cupboard which was always a challenge to close. Cooking wasn’t work with Bumpie … it was a chance to hear his words of wisdom, his funny jokes, his comments about what we were making … but truly it was learning the art of cooking with love. I can only hope one day my boys feel that way about my parents and wanting to “work and learn” in the kitchen the way my siblings and I were taught.