Most startling is the obvious scarcity of children. For the first time I realize our family is now composed of more adults than kids. The absence of youthful shrieks and shouts is more than unsettling. It is haunting. But Dad is there as always, making sure that I don't tamper with things.
Pork is pork.
It's not the same. My father shakes his head and gives me a look to let me know that I've failed him. He's too nice to say it aloud, but l know my father has never trusted me to do things the right way - which is, of course, the way he did it, and the way his father did it before that. Together with my father, brothers, nephew, and son, I trim fat from the meat, cut the pork into cubes, place it in the crock, and season it with spices. The garlic cloves are huge, and just one would be enough.