44

Mr. F had been complaining: I talk food, I think food, I buy stuff to make more food, I watch food channel, I take pictures of food, I blogged food and I find reasons to celebrate to make more food.

Last weekend was my parents' 44th wedding anniversary; of course, I didn't let it passed without celebrating and cooking, how could I?

Few weeks ago, I asked my parents if they remember the menu they had on their wedding day or at least a dish that they remember they had. My plan was to recreate their wedding somehow.   Mom said their it was blur and couldn't remember that much details. I turned to dad - since grandma was one of the known cooks in my hometown - he just turned to mom.

Great. Plan B.

I remembered my mom's repeated stories that involved food: her grandmother's relative from out of town were coming for a visit with baskets full of freshly harvested fruits as a gift. To welcome them, my great-grandmother, would prepare the best dishes she could possibly make: Paella and Lengua Estofado.  I made estofado before but paella not yet. So paella it is.

Paella

Mom told the story, again, as we eat; it wasnt their wedding day, nor the night of their engagement.

My parents' wedding may not be a fairy tale or something close to what I've fancied for myself. They have each other, and they have me along with my siblings between them. Marriage, obviously, is more important to them, not a fanciful wedding and they are 44 years strong.

More years to you, Mom and Dad!