"Field Site Supper"

My Dad's job would take him to a mysterious place he only ever called the "Field Site." He was a missile engineer at the time. He'd be gone for up to six months, coming home on the odd weekend. I can't even imagine what that was like for my mom, with all her little ones underfoot, to be missing her helpmate and life partner. He was around much more later, fighting his way through the first waves of traffic congestion to get home for dinner.

Sometimes Mom would be going out, and he'd cook. He'd toss all the courses into one pot and heat it through. We children were accustomed to peas and carrots together, and casseroles of course, but to have a couple of cans of this and a couple of cans of that get all stirred together on the stove top... well, that didn't look like food.

So he named it. "Field Site Supper."

We of course were fascinated about the field site. He couldn't tell us much of anything about it, for security reasons. But he could tell us that without Mom's good cooking to sustain him, he would make "Field Site Supper" for himself. Eating a one-pot meal with him while Mom was out, we felt included in whatever his mysterious mission was.

Now, years later, I make many one-pot or one-skillet meals. My kids might know part of the reason why.