Now, I am aware of Keller and his reputation for detail and order in his kitchens and being a bit of a DI himself, so as writer Severson points out, being the son of a sonofbitch is probably a plus for a guy who according to some could give Gordon Ramsey a run for it in the Hell’s Kitchen Olympics.

Unfortunately they had only a few years to hang out. Ed Keller wrecked his car and became a paraplegic. But the old guy toughed it out for a year before he died. The NYT story talks gracefully about the care and compassion Thomas provided his father through that time and the cooking of his last meal, his favorite: barbequed chicken with bottled sauce, mashed potatoes softened with Half & Half, braised collard greens with bacon fat, and for desert, the first strawberries of the season with a shot of Grand Marnier because Ed liked some alcohol in his deserts. What really touched me was the thought of a world-class chef renown for complex, technical recipes putting all that aside as an act of love to do something special for a guy who chose to spend only three of his 86 years with his grown son. But according to the story, the bargain worked for them both, if briefly. Thomas had a dad for a while, and Big Ed contributed by becoming part of the French Laundry/Yountville scene, a larger than life cat who loved his cigars and most days could be found at the restaurant sipping wine in the garden and telling large tales.

The NYT story talks a lot about how the experience has changed the hard charging chef recognized for precision, analysis and control, and made him realize there is more to life than growing his empire. And that ultimately there are even some things simply out of his control. Some of us learn that lesson sooner than others. And he reportedly has finally become engaged to his long-time companion Laura Cunningham following this experience with his father.

So Thomas Keller has seen the light, going to get married and will always remember smoking a cigar with his pop. I’m happy for him, but it got me to thinking about a couple of things, namely my dad, who wasn’t a sonofabitch, even though there were times as a teenager when I thought he fit the description, but he never left the family, and in my next post I’m going to write about our conversations as he lay dying. But I’m wondering if you had the same scenario of long-lost father and son reuniting and reconciling and thriving even if ever so shortly, and you replaced Keller’s profession with, say, a mechanic, lawyer, software designer, insurance salesman, minister, advertising executive name it.

Would it have the same resonance if the last act of kindness was to tune-up the car, de bug the computer, pray over him or put an ad in the paper? Would it? I’ll fully grant the illogic of that question because the relationship between a father and son is complex indeed and probably never more so than at the end. But what a privilege to cook a simple meal to commemorate and celebrate a relationship that might never have been.

Pass the Grand Marnier.

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