Father's Day Gifts for the Dad Who Says He Wants Nothing.

Why does Dad say he wants nothing for Father's Day,

then spends an hour looking at new grill gadgets at Home Depot?

What do you get when Father's Day, Peaches and Cream Day, and the

longest day of the year collide?

Forget the tie.

This Sunday, give Dad a hot fire, a bowl of sweet peaches to share that

tall tale about the one that got away.

It's a peach of a show because it's Father's Day.

Stay tuned.

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Hello, everybody.

It's Nancy May and Sylvia France once again with another Family

Tree Food and Stories episode.

Before we start, please go to the top of our page at Podcast.FamilyTreeFoodStories.

Like, share, and subscribe to the show, just so that you don't miss a bite at our

table, because we want you there with us.

And we hope that you realize that every meal has a story and every story is a

feast, including your own, not just ours, because we have a lot to share today.

And what are we talking about here today, Sylvia?

And today, we're gonna do something a little bit different.

We're celebrating three things at once; Father's Day, the summer solstice,

and I'm not really making this up, it's National Peaches and Cream Day.

And I will throw in there, it was also the due date for my oldest child.

And no, I'm not gonna tell how old he is.

Well, I won't ask, okay?

Like a fine wine, I just get better with age.

I think that's a good one.

I'll drink to that.

How's that?

Perfect.

Or uncork the bottle.

Either way, the same day, all are on the same day, June 21st, which

means that somewhere out there, a dad is grilling, squinting at the sky

thinking, "When is this day gonna stop?

I am so tired of grilling.

Too much work." And it's Father's Day, after all.

He's probably looking for that scotch and hoping that the ice doesn't melt,

and that, what is he gonna do with those peaches that he's just handed a

bowl of peaches and figuring out, "What the heck do I do with these things?"

I can hear him say already, "I don't need all of this."

Yeah, right.

And that's the central point of what we're talking about today because…

Oh, Dad always says he doesn't want anything for Father's Day.

Yeah, that's a lie.

That's a lie.

Oh, he absolutely wants something.

He just can't always say what it is, and neither can we, so we buy him a

meat thermometer and hope for the best.

Yeah, or the novelty apron, the one that has the six-pack abs,

or the socks that say, "I'm sexy."

Oh, wow, I like the I'm sexy one.

But that's for a different episode.

Let's start with the whole idea of where Father's Day actually came from.

Which is?

Well, Father's Day was not started by a greeting card company.

Surprise, surprise, although I thought it did.

That's quite a moment.

It wasn't invented by Hallmark?

Nope.

I thought it was.

Nope, it wasn't.

Same as Mother's Day.

I thought it was, too.

But it was started by a daughter, which yay, yay, go daughters,

since we're daughters here, right?

Amen.

My dad had two daughters, so he's a lucky duck.

My dad thought one was enough, so need I say more?

But anyway, so Father's Day was started in 1910 by a woman named

Sonora Smart Dodd in Spokane, Washington.

Her father, William Smart, was a widowed Civil War vet who raised six

kids on his own, and she thought that guy deserved a special day, her dad.

Oh, I would absolutely agree.

I had three, and that was totally enough.

But that really changes everything about the holiday.

It wasn't commerce, it wasn't love, it was actually a daughter at her father

saying, "This world should know what a great man he is and what he did."

Like I said, the first celebration was in

2010, but here's the kicker.

It took a few years later, till 1972, until Richard Nixon made

it an official federal holiday.

It took America 62 years to say, "Fine, Dad.

We need a day too"?

I know.

Yeah, meanwhile, dads were just out there mowing the lawn, just

kinda hanging out, doing what dads do, and waiting for some kind of

recognition, which I think is kinda sad.

I think it took longer than- … the Reconstruction The man who

raised six kids alone after the Civil War waited 62 years for recognition.

This is very on brand for how we treat the quiet ones.

I agree.

I agree.

Dad needs a little bit more recognition than that.

But the holiday still also carries an even stranger mix because some

dads are gone, and there's a more complicated story to that one, which

we'll get to a little later on.

But I thought that the idea of what do you get for Dad is a little,

you know, how do you do that?

And what do you do?

It's a grill.

It, it's the socks and, well, usually we make him work over the grill.

So now we've established the real history.

Let's talk about what Father's Day actually looks like in 2026.

Dad's either grilling or adjacent to the grill, and

Dad talking about the grill, or s- maybe the one that got away.

Is it the grill that he's had for 11 years that he will

absolutely not replace because he think it's, works fine, even though it's

falling apart and losing two knobs?

Right.

Yeah.

That's, that's Bob, and he's not a dad, although he's a dog dad.

People keep reminding me that.

Well, we're dog parents, but that's okay.

But Father's Day, this probably explains exactly why Father's Day has hit the

record $24 billion in sales in 2025.

Can you believe that?

Which means America's still trying to figure, to solve

the fatherhood with stainless steel.

Yeah, expensive ones at that.

But the grill never just gets old.

It's just where dads get more useful and territorial and slightly

performative occasionally over the wrong kind of chicken, whether it's

done or not or… Oh, I've got stories about that with my father-in-law.

I'm sure you have.

But, you know, my gra- grandmother always said you could tell everything

about a man by what he did near fire.

Yeah.

That's a loaded thing to say.

She was a very wise woman, especially since he was

in this sideshow of the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus.

I think that's pretty cool.

Talk about fire.

He's probably flame throwing along the way.

Actually, it was knives.

Oh, okay.

Right.

Well, we have to do that on another story because-

Maybe we can do a circus food story.

That would be

fun … I think we'll have to do that one.

But I have a, my dad was not a griller, but I have a story

about my dad and a grill.

Can I share that one with you?

Oh, how big are you talking?

No, we're talking a big grill.

It was an oil drum grill.

You know the kind that I, literally like an oil drum.

And my dad had a factory, so he got his factory foreman or manager who was

really good with, what do they call the torches that, that cut things in, in half?

I'm drawing a blank on what they call them.

Yeah.

I know what you're talking about.

Right.

It's kind of like a welder's gun that-

Yeah, that cuts metal.

So he cut, he cut the metal, the drill in half, and they soldered legs on it.

Dad told them where to solder it, and the guy who knew how to

solder actually put it together.

Yes.

And then we got a grill top and put it in our backyard for a picnic that they

had for all the factory workers, and Dad shucked- Hundreds, and I would say

literally probably hundreds of clams.

You know, the little small-

Oh, yeah

… nancy may: tiny half shell clams, and put bacon on them, and we

grilled clams casino on them.

They were so good.

Oh, wow.

There's nothing better than linguine with clam sauce.

I only can imagine how awesome that was.

I don't think we had linguine, but it was definitely bacon on clams, and

just eating that right hot off the grill.

Be careful you don't burn your lips on the shells.

Sounds like you have experience.

Yeah, I do have experience on that one, but I think you've got

a couple of grill stories with your dad, or fire stories with your dad.

Well, more campfire stories.

Okay.

Yeah, my dad was not a griller, so his claim to fame

was actually we would go camping.

And so he had the Coleman stove, but what he had is this, like, flat top grill.

And so his thing was to make breakfast.

Ooh.

So he loves biscuits.

You know, it's a Southern thing.

So he would make these Jiffy Mix or Bisquick biscuits.

And so he would do drop biscuits, but he would actually try to bake them

on the grill top, which kind of made them like I've heard Hardtack before.

You know, it's like you would break a tooth if you would try to

eat them, especially after they've been sitting out for six hours.

But he thought he was the connoisseur, so we said, "Yes, Dad, they're lovely.

Um, yum." And instead of eating them, we would kind of like throw them on

the ground since you were camping.

Oh, well isn't that hard tack, the where you sort of dip it

in something to make it soggy or-

I know, but I wasn't old enough to have-

Know better.

No, well, I didn't have coffee.

They wouldn't let me dr- get- Ah … until I was in coffee, so you

know, orange juice and a biscuit.

It was, it was just better to say, "Great, Dad," and kind of, you

know, subtly throw it in the bushes.

Sorry, Dad.

No, he never knew.

Hopefully

he knew

better.

He, he never knew unless he listens to the podcast, so hopefully he won't.

He's-

Grills create all sorts of good things and delicious food along the way,

and, you know, there's the Big Green Egg and there's so many other things that are

out there right now, which is, explains the 24, let's say $24 million or whatever

the number was, but that's ridiculous.

So I have a question.

You know, I used to work at the Home Depot, their corporate support center,

so I know all about grills and how- Oh … expensive they can be and all

the d- Yeah … diddly doodads and, you know, cast iron grills versus

metal grills and the whole nine yards.

So I have a question for you, though.

Mm-hmm.

So what do you think dads actually want?

Because I think, you know, we overthink this 'cause we see all

the commercials on television.

You know, I think dads actually want the simple things:

good food, a good time, maybe some quiet time away from the kids,

especially if you've got six and you're raising them all by yourself, right?

Or the wife.

And maybe 10 consecutive minutes without some kid s- screaming,

"Are we there yet?" Well, I think that's the last one.

They would just like peace and quiet, and they can actually just do what they

want, rather than having to cook for the masses or navigate fights in the backseat.

Right, yeah, and maybe a card or two.

I used to get my dad, when he was older and we were taking care of

him long distance and, you know, Mom and Dad were… Uh, they had their

aides, but I would get them cards.

And I know of course everybody gets a dad's card, right?

But not just one card.

I made sure that he had, like, 10 cards being delivered, which was kind of fun.

Well, I mean, how did it make him feel?

I'm sure he was at the same time overjoyed, but I think at the

same time he would probably be sad that you weren't there with him.

I think he was, and occasionally, well, I made it

down for at least one or two Father's Day, and he would always

say, "Oh, don't get me anything."

He literally said just like, "Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Don't get me anything.

I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine." And then you get him the gift- And he looks at it.

He wouldn't scowl, but he would sort of like create a wr- like a wrinkle

right between your eyes, you know, that kind of like looking a little scowly.

And then he would give it to him, and he'd unwrap it, and then

he'd open it up, and he'd always have this big smile on his face.

It was always something useful, too, of course.

Well, they would always like to hide their emotions.

Yeah.

I, I think it's kind of like a manly thing, you know?

Yeah.

Oh, my gosh, if, you know, we can't cry, we can't be happy.

We just have to take it and bear it.

Yeah.

Well, my dad got a little bit more emotional over those later years,

which made me feel kind of good.

But he'd always go, his words were, "Oh, geez. Oh, geez." Yeah.

He's happy.

Oh, geez.

He- So yeah, we knew he was, uh, we knew he was really happy and

excited and thrilled when, "Oh, geez," it was a special gift.

You sound like an amazing daughter.

Aw.

Well, I think you, too.

So you're taking care of your dad right now, but you're going

through what I did, however.

Yes, the challenges and opportunities-

Yeah … of the parental units.

Yeah, the parental units.

So

I would like, can you tell me… You know, I was really

curious 'cause, you know, when we started out this, we talked about peaches.

So can you tell me a little bit more about the history of peaches?

So June 21st is National Peaches and Cream Day,

and before you say, "What does that have to do with Father's Day?"

let me connect it for you.

I'm listening.

So Dad grilling, summer doesn't end, and a peach half brushed with butter,

a little sugar honey on it, and then caramelized over a grill is so, so good.

And since you spend time in Georgia, I know that you're aware of that one.

Oh, yes.

They would take away your Atlanta card if you didn't drink Coke and grill peaches.

Really?

Well, I probably would've been kicked out of Atlanta, but let me just share

a little bit of the history of the peach, or the origin of the peach.

The peach was found or discovered, I guess you can say discovered, over

4,000 years ago in ancient China, and it was traditionally considered a

symbol of longevity and immortality, which also makes it the perfect

Father's Day fruit because we want our dads to live forever, right?

Yeah.

I understand didn't it travel through Persia, which is why the

Latin name is Prunus persica.

Yes.

Even though it's not officially Persian,

Persia was the pit stop.

By the Renaissance, the peach had become associated with romance,

fertility, and sensuality.

Excuse me, that's what every dad wants to be, hot, right?

Remember those sexy socks.

That's right.

Think about it.

It's so soft, fragrant, sweet, impossibly juicy when it's ripe.

Kind of heart-shaped.

Yeah, I never thought of a peach being heart-shaped, but

do you remember the Steve Miller Band in the '70s and their song?

Really?

Love your peaches and wanna shake your tree.

Ooh.

Context is everything.

But the Spanish brought the peaches over to America in the 1500s,

and newer research from Penn State shows the peach didn't just

travel with the European settlers.

It was the indigenous trade networks that carried them widely across

the Southeast long before the colonialists arrived in most areas.

And the peach became American not by conquest, but by relationship.

In the American South, the peach became a cultural bedrock.

Of course, Georgia, they identify as the Peach State.

It's inseparable from the agricultural heritage.

Though California actually produces more peaches today, which Georgians

regard as a personal insult, and also South Carolina as well.

I can see.

Georgia peach.

Yeah.

All those Southern belles having a snit along the way.

Absolutely.

And here's one other thing that you may not know, or even dads

may not know, that yellow peaches and white peaches grill differently.

Did you know that?

Actually, for, living in Georgia for 10

years, you had to learn that.

Okay.

Again, that Georgia card.

Yep, Georgia card.

So the yellow peaches, for those who don't understand or don't know,

the, there's a difference between a yellow peach and white peach.

And if you haven't seen a white peach, it really has a white, a very white flesh.

And the yellow peaches hold their structure on the heat better

and they caramelize better, so they're better for grilling.

And the white peach is best eaten because it's juicy and just,

that juice drips down your chin.

You have to kind of eat it over the sink.

Before we go on, I wanna take a quick break and we'll be right back

because we have a lot to talk about peaches and the sweetness of peaches.

Can you smell that meal that your grandmother, mom, or even dad made

at every special family celebration?

The one that you can still taste with your eyes closed?

Sylvia and I created My Family Tree Food and Stories book because we kept hearing

your heartbreaking stories of favorite foods and family meal memories lost.

This isn't just a cookbook.

It's a specially designed type of journal where you can relive and

share your family recipes and stories.

Honestly, most people think of a plate of food as just that.

But when paired with a good story, each bite becomes a banquet of joy,

laughter, maybe even a few tears, and memories that never go stale.

To get more details, go to Podcast.FamilyTreeFoodStories.com and

select book at the top of the page.

We've got a lot more fun and a lot more to come down the

road and to put on your plate.

But for now, let's get back to the rest of this My Family Tree Food Stories.

So now we need to talk about the most glamorous thing

that ever happened to a peach.

I think I'm gonna be completely unprepared for this.

Let's see, Peach Melba, created by the French chef, Auguste

Escoffier, at the Savoy Hotel in London for an opera singer, Nellie Melba.

Peaches, raspberry sauce, vanilla ice cream.

So wait a second, my dad's been grilling in the backyard over a

barrel, and the next minute it's named for a soprano in a five-star hotel?

It's okay, Dad.

Chill out.

Well, you know, that's the full range of a

peach, porch to opera house.

Yeah.

Well, and the cobbler, are you familiar with the story of the peach cobbler?

No, please do tell.

So there is the Peach Melba and all sorts of fancy things, especially

that you had just mentioned, but the peach cobbler, the first recipe was

published in 1839, and it became a staple because proper pie-making tools

were required for the actual peach pie and other things, and they weren't

always available, especially on the back alleys or more rustic frontiers

where plantation kitchen tools weren't always available, I mean, the fancy

kitchen tools, like rolling things out.

And they used biscuit batter over the fruit in a cast iron pot.

I would love that, the biscuit.

The cobbler is democratized genius.

The Melba is aspirational genius.

Both involve a peach, and they both work.

There's one more peach thing that we have to address because-

Uh-oh

… nancy may: Sylvia, you have a fact that I may not have been prepared for.

Is it the pit?

It is the pit.

Peach contains amigdalin.

I can slaughter that, I'm from the South.

A compound that can break down into cyanide when digested.

It goes nowhere.

A lot is a problem.

There is not a reason to panic, but it is a reason not to eat the

pit, which I wouldn't do anyway, which in fairness no one was doing.

Right, yeah, unless you were in the 1970s, and that is an incredible

story because talk about pure stupidity.

So there's this scandal, I'm gonna call it the Laetrile scandal, where a

chemist in 1950s extracted amigdalin.

You didn't say it much better than-

Right.

Well- … I'm now in the South, so I can pretend.

And that is in the peach pit, the actual soft part of the pit, which

they called B17, vitamin B17, which is a completely invented vitamin, ha ha.

And they claimed it would cure cancer.

Cure cancer?

B17, not a real vitamin- No … just a ma- name that was made up.

Hmm.

Absolutely, and well, the whole vitamin industry is not rec- necessarily

regulated by the FDA, but eventually they, uh, decided that the FDA had to ban it

because peaches are dangerous in the pits.

And someone looked into this, but these researchers claimed that it

cured cancer, so people were coming up with all sorts of reactions to it.

They turned blue.

They were getting sick.

They were getting poisoned, like a cyanide poisoning.

So it became a fruit scandal.

And that's why we cannot have nice things, I guess.

I guess so.

Speaking of nice things, one of the really nice things on June 21st

is that we have summer solstice and the longest day of the year.

And in 2026, that's this year, this weekend, the exact moment that

the longest day starts is at 4:22

AM Eastern Time.

Which mean if Dad is already up making coffee at 4:24 AM, which my dad

always makes coffee for my mom, he has technically experienced the official start

of summer at the maximum wakefulness.

Yeah, I love that.

And he's not out there grilling at the time, so I think that's

particularly im- important.

But maybe he's at the midnight grill later on, where the day be- gets a little longer

and Dad's out there flipping one thing or another thing long before bedtime.

But there's something I love about Father's

Day landing on the solstice.

It gives him, the day, a frame.

It lasts longer, the evening stretches, and the grill stays lit.

It does.

It does.

It actually gives us a little bit more time together, which is even better

More time, more evening, more standing

around something warm together

And because the grill gives you just a little bit more light, it

actually gives Dad a little bit more time standing there with his scotch

or his beer in his hand at the same time just before he goes to bed.

They've earned it, right?

Oh, they've actually l- earned this day in

spades in one way or another.

So yeah, there's a sad part to Father's Day, and not

all of us have our dads around.

Some of us have been lucky enough to have fabulous dads, and some of us have sadly

got to celebrate the passing of our dads.

So we wanna honor this empty chair just a little bit because Father's

Day can be joyful, but it also can be complicated, and it can be painful.

So before you have your cup- first cup of coffee, say something

nice and remember your dad.

For a lot of our listeners, their dad is no longer

here, or the la- relationship was hard.

They're honoring their father figure or grandfather or someone who

played that role without the title.

And food gives us so many ways to actually honor those that

we've loved and made it special, so-

Can you tell us more about your story?

I can.

So when my dad passed, there's a couple of things.

When he passed, we did the gun salute, and I collected all the little…

He's buried in Veterans' Memorial Cemetery, and I took all the little

shells from the honor guard or the gun guards and had them taken to a

jeweler, dipped in silver and gold.

And each one I had engraved a saying that my dad used that was very simple.

One was, "Love you lots." I always signed letters to him, and he always

signed letters to me, "Love you lots."

And another one that he said to my sister and to the aides was, "Just keep smiling."

So each one of the aides and my sister got a shell, a shot shell, and I took

one, too, that either says, "Love you lots," or, "Keep smiling," and his birth

and death date so that… And I just put them on chains, and we all wear them as

necklaces, a special piece of jewelry.

Keep close to my heart.

I know it doesn't bring him back, but I'm sure he is with you always.

Especially when I wear that, yep.

And the most beautiful thing and so fitting because he said

those words so many times, and now they're literal objects that you

can hold, feel, touch, and remember.

That and his bowl that says, "Stu's ice cream bowl," which I have.

I have a question for you.

My grandmother always had ice cream at night.

That was her, like, snitch thing.

Mm-hmm.

So did he… When did he like ice cream, or did he have a special time?

Oh, he could eat ice cream breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

For her, it was every night.

Yeah.

She would always have ice cream, but she lived to 99, so

I guess it can't do, be too bad.

Yeah.

So what's the one thing that your dad taught you that you could say

without even trying to remember it?

Even when I was little, he would always put his hand on my back.

Aw.

So we were in a social situation, and when he put his hand on

my back, he would introduce himself, but he would make me introduce myself

So he was always trying to give me the confidence to s- have a voice, speak

up for myself, and to be independent.

I love that.

Dad gave you the extra strength that you needed to keep pushing forward.

Well, it's just one of those things that, you know, when you're

little you don't think about it, but it taught me a good lesson, is a way to

put it, is, you know, don't hesitate.

When you go into a room and somebody's talking and everybody's having a

conversation, I don't mind stepping in and saying, "Hello, my name is Sylvia Franz."

I know you do that very well.

So before we go, there's a food promise that we had that we were gonna deliver,

and, uh, we're talking about grilled peaches, which we did earlier, and

National Peaches and Cream Day, and a little bit about the summer solstice.

But there's one more thing that we want to share is the grilled

peaches and how to do that.

Well, I always like the deliver story because, you know,

it can't be done by Uber or DoorDash.

Mm-hmm.

When I grill them in Atlanta, you use ripe but firm peaches.

They hold up the heat.

Yellow peaches are the best bet, 'cause the white ones are too juicy.

You halve them, you remove the pit, brush the outside with melted butter

or a neutral oil, you lay them cut side down on a medium hot grill, and you

leave them for four to five minutes.

You flip them once, one minute on either side, done, and

they're fabulous over chicken.

Ooh, that sounds really good.

Yeah.

What you're looking for is a golden brown caramelization where the flesh hits the

grates, a light softening, a fragrance that makes everyone in the yard stop

talking and start finding their fork.

Yeah.

You have vanilla, vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, which is a little

bit more summery, but the whipped cream kind of melts in it, and you've

got whipped ricotta with honey.

If you haven't tried that, that is delicious.

I suggest it.

Yeah.

I have.

It's fabulous.

I second

that.

It's, it's really good.

Uh, mascarpone, raspberry sauce.

Well, I think raspberry and peaches they're, they're okay, but just

why would you hide the peach?

And bourbon caramel sauce, which, yeah, Dad earned it, right?

I really like that boozy upgrade.

You know, you soak-

Yeah, for sure.

You soak the peach halves in a mix of bourbon, honey, and a pinch of

cinnamon for 20 minutes before grilling.

The bourbon caramelizes, the honey deepens, the cinnamon does

something mysterious and wonderful.

Serve this and then watch Dad's face.

I think he's gonna smile from ear to ear.

We also have a couple of extra notes on hot honey peach margarita.

We'll put some recipes in the show notes so you've got those, as

well as honey peach bourbon smash.

No, don't get too smashed on that.

And bourbon-soaked grilled peaches with cream.

So we'll put those in the show notes, or there'll be an additional hook

where you can get those in attachment.

So in closing, Father's Day 2026, summer solstice, National Peach,

uh, Peaches and Cream Day, and yes, of course, Father's Day.

Those are three special things to celebrate this weekend.

Yes, it's on one long, beautiful evening.

And somewhere in the middle of it, a dad is standing at a grill

pretending he doesn't want anything, wearing an apron that's probably got

six-pack abs on it, and socks that say, "I think I'm sexy," or, "I know I'm sexy."

Surrounded by people giving him a bowl of peaches, and he's thinking, "What next?"

So here's what we, I want for people to take away from this episode.

Father's Day isn't about finding the perfect gift for the man

who says he wants nothing.

Nope.

It's about noticing what he gave us, the rituals, the recipes, the

ridiculous rules sometimes, the fireside t- tended treats that happen.

Think marshmallows and charcoaled a little bit more.

And the things that he taught us without even saying them out loud, like your

dad's putting his hand on your back.

So ask the story, make the food, toss him out if

necessary, let the evening go long.

And grill a peach in honor of Dad.

If Dad says, "You don't have to do all this"…

Of course you do

… sylvia france: what it means is please do it again next year.

Absolutely.

Remember, we're Family Tree Food Stories.

Go to podcast.familytreefoodstories.

Because every meal has a story, and every story is a feast.

And please remember to like, share, and tell us your stories.

Next time we're going into the recipes people carry only in

their heads, the ones that were never written down, the ones that live in

muscle memory, instinct, and love.

Until next time, keep cooking something.

Maybe let Dad stand away from the grill so you can do it for him.

And tell us your stories.

Or better yet, listen to Dad's stories, because I guarantee they'll

be ones that'll be carrying with you for a long time, whether at the

dinner table or out at the fire pit.

Bye, you guys.

We'll see you later.

Take care, and happy Father's Day.

Happy Father's Day

Sylvia and I hope that you've loved this episode

of Family Tree Food and Stories.

If there's a family recipe or a story that's been passed down at your table,

or even just something that happened yesterday, we'd love to hear it.

Maybe your special dish or family moment could be featured on

one of our upcoming episodes.

You can share it by just heading over to Podcast.FamilyTreeFoodStories.com

to submit your story or recipe.

And before you go, make sure to subscribe so you'll never miss an episode full of

delicious ideas and heartfelt ways to make every meal a memorable experience.

It's easier than you think.

We'll help you, too.

So put those phones aside, unless you're listening, switch off the

television, and turn off your laptop, and we'll show you how to turn everyday

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Let's continue to celebrate the joy of food, family, and gathering

with friends that we love.

Thanks for listening.

Until next time, happy eating, happy storytelling, and ciao.

Bye-bye