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I've never really been what anyone would call a picky eater, but as a child, there were certain foods I was not willing to entertain the thought of, let alone consume. There were brussels sprouts, cooked carrots, cauliflower and scrambled eggs to name a few. To this day I do not know why one of those foods I refused to eat was my father’s potato stew. There are no words to describe just how delicious this stew is. It's got big chunks of hearty potatoes, seasoned bits of ground beef, sweet carrots and celery and aromatic bits of onion and garlic. How anyone can not want to gobble that up is a complete mystery to me. The only excuse I have is that I must have been insane as a child - or highly influenced by an equally stubborn older brother...
My mother and father tried every trick you can think of to make my brother and me eat the stew. They made all manner of threats and bribes but to no avail. Then one day, my father tried a new approach by giving it a unique name. We are a family of readers and our house has been littered with novels of all sorts wherever there was a surface to lay them on for as long as I can remember. My brother Teddy, discovered H.P. Lovecraft around the same time as my father first started making his stew. One of my brothers’ books lay off to the side of the couch where my father was sitting one evening and he was struck with an ingenious idea. H.P. – Hamburger and Potato… H.P. Lovecraft Stew was born. For some reason after that, my brother and I couldn’t get enough of it. The name had somehow brought us to our senses and it was as though we were tasting the stew for the first time. Lovecraft evoked in us the sense of some witches brew bubbling away in a cauldron. It made the stew mysterious and delectable.
We still call my father’s stew Lovecraft to this day, although now, bribery and threats are no longer needed to coerce me into enjoying a steaming bowl or mug with a nice big chunk of savory Italian bread.
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