so when my (now) 80 year old father got home from his month long stay in random apartments in Paris (we went to visit for his bday again this year) his first meal he made himself as the tacos I learned from him and still do to this day. Both recipie have evolved considerably and we enjoy our cooking together and yelling at each other, glass of wine in hand and the other hand in a fist shaking at each other whos current descendants version is best. Lots of the word that starts with b and ends in t about spices and execution.
Then we fill up our glass, sit down to eat and find something else to yell at each other again.
Going to miss that when the time comes so trying to fly out there as much as possible.
Fresh fried shells as always, nothing else in our house(s).