I’m thinking of my daddy today, J.D. Buffett. Here he is, handsome as can be in his army uniform in 1944. As I was writing GUMBO LOVE I was sometimes caught by surprise as his words, ways, and cooking came echoing into my mind and imagination…how he cut up those vegetables for his navy bean soup so they were almost identical in size and shape…how he taught us—sometimes the hard way—that a job worth doing was a job worth doing right and the value of hard work.
He lived by the sea in more ways than one, a sailor like his father before him in spirit if not by livelihood. Some of my best memories of him are riding in the boat together. His language was often flavored with salt water, including his encouragement to “stay the course”…while keeping everything “shipshape,” of course! His tenderloin, his grill, his paper-bag fried chicken—these are just a few of his appearances in the book. He has truly flavored my recipe of GUMBO LOVE, and I miss him dearly.
