1
On weekends,
my father made delicious
bread and cheddar
sandwiches, he called
Girl Cheese.
Every weekend, I asked
Dad to make those
sandwiches again.
I love that stuff,
Girl Cheese.
High school soccer,
age fifteen, northern Ontario,
breakfast at a mom-and-pop grill,
searching the menu for
Girl Cheese.
Bacon and eggs,
waffles, toast and…
I stare at the menu.
I stare and I stare and I stare.
Grilled Cheese?
What would you like, hon?
May I have one of your sandwiches,
please? Thank you, ma’am.
I would really like the
Girl Cheese.
2
Dad was cooking in a pot.
That smells good, Dad. What
is it? Dad ponders.
I think I’ll call it
Hungarian Goulash.
That’s a great name, Dad!
Did you just invent it?
Sure did, son. Wow,
I can’t wait to try the
Hungarian Goulash.
A year later,
lunch at Johnny’s. His mom
cooking from a recipe book.
I look at the recipe.
Hungarian Goulash.
I jump with excitement.
Mrs. P, Mrs. P, did you know?
Did you know my dad
invented that recipe,
Hungarian Goulash?
Did he then? She grinned.
Tell your dad he’s one great chef,
cause I sure love to make
his excellent recipe,
Hungarian Goulash.