Popeye

My Popeye (yes I call my pepe my Popeye, deal with it!) was a professional chef, so he knows a thing or two in the kitchen. Would you believe me if I told you he once cooked for President JFK and didn't realize it until after he met and shook hands with the guy? (My Popeye is French and was brand new to America). He worked at "du cloob" as he pronounces it in his adorable French accent somewhere in Farmington, CT. A very elite town in probably the most elite state in the country. Now I know I'll never be on his level, but he is the inspiration for this blog. Ever since I quit my job to be a stay-at-home, I needed a fun hobby so I thought "why not cook?".

I grew up cooking with my Popeye almost everyday of my childhood. He is still my best friend and favorite chef. Sorry all of you on the Food Network Channel, but you have nothing on this man! He used to be a troublemaker back when he was a boy in Catholic school. He told me he would purposely anger the nuns to get sent to the kitchen to peel potatoes and help prepare lunches.

And so, to honor my Popeye, I want to dedicate my first recipe to him. Afterall, it is one of his own and one of my favorites!

To Popeye!

                             

Popeye and my great-grandmother, Fernand visiting in Montreal!

At my babyshower!

--Bree