Food and beverages from my dad’s funeral

The reception was covered by your friends in the catering industry.

They gave us fat gulf shrimp.

Medjool dates and golden raisins.

Vegetable crudités patiently drying out on porcelain while everyone ate the shrimp instead.

I cried into a Moscow mule.

For a few days after the service I’d stay up drinking scotch and cataloguing your favorite classical music. In the 80s you’d written out your favorite pieces with the composers’ names in all caps.

SHOSTAKOVICH.

RACHMANINOFF.

And so on.

The oven had been broken, so when I tried baking an earl grey lemon cake with caramelized lemon slices it came out looking like utter slop.

The lemon slices melted into the goo of the batter.

You could’ve tasted the loose tea leaves in every grainy bite.

So for that week I ended up eating almost nothing but toast with cream cheese and jelly, like some ersatz strawberry cheesecake.

I still can’t eat at your favorite Vietnamese restaurant, which is really too bad because they have fantastic spring rolls.

The peanut sauce is warm and has little chunks of roasted peanuts.

I’m sure it’s still really good.

You would hate that it’s more expensive now.