Grandpa Gastro lives in the Wicklow Mountains. With vintage Irish cheer, he adds soul to recipes. And food takes its proper place: At the peak.
There are few things in life that you have to please more than your taste buds.
We are good people when we’re fed. And quite fed up when we aren’t!
The better people of course are those that feed.
They fill your stomach and also your heart.
Food is their art, their canvas, their playground.
They put the warmth in the cookies, the crunch in the softest croissant, the milk in the chocolate, the sour sweetness in a pineapple, the gooeyness in cake, the cream in yogurt, the spice in salsa, the goodness in veggies, perhaps even the comfort in milk and bread and eggs and meat and potatoes.
That cooking is no cakewalk is an easy inference to make. No Art was ever meant to be.
It is for that very reason that we should, enduringly, toast to those that reside in every culinary space.
It’s funny and filling when your stomach largely determines your truest loves in life.
Grandparents probably take most of the pie on that chart.
Their true, unadulterated, often excessive love (if there ever were such a thing as too much love) moulds a relationship that has food at its core.
They feed you till you’re full. And then some more.
It is one of the most beautiful feelings in the world to be fed till you’re full by your truest loves in life – both of which may regretfully be the privilege of a few amongst the billions that inhabit this Earth.
Grandpa Gastro has a pantry full of recipes from his travels across the world.
They make for a storehouse of interwoven stories.
He brings them to us from a backyard of a farm with more than just a barbecue, amidst a mountainous Irish fairy tale landscape.
This is inspired writing coupled with inspired cooking by a charming chef.
It brings the love of a grandparent, the joy of a delicious meal and an assortment of emotions invoked by a recipe, to its receiver.
Grandpas and Food deserve the sincerest love. For they make us SHOUT! with delight.