Little story: Last May, @ a year after my dad died, I went to a friends house and opened a bottle of Petite Syrah I’d picked up at a winery on the way (she lives way out in the sticks outside Sacramento). My friend enjoys good wine, but she’s not a foodie and doesn’t have that silly wine vocabulary. So she took a sip and said “tasty”. And I lost it.
My dad always said “tasty” when he liked something. He was a food & beverage / bar man all his life. Very smart & wise, but not educated. He didn’t have that food/wine vocabulary either. But he’d light up whenever he’d say it, so you knew he liked it, whatever he was tasting. When she said it, it was the first time I’d heard it since his death.
I was stunned at the emotional power of such a simple word, “tasty”. I no longer lose it when I hear it now; I just smile & think of him.
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