- for Dad, after Jan Heller Levi I think you’re most yourself when you are cooking; slicing the food with each chop, the funny way you look, your eyebrows furrowed as though you're confused. You're neither award winning nor mediocre at making my favorite soup. you wouldn't win any michelin stars, Dad but you wouldn't make me throw up. I think how different everything might have been had I judged your loving like I judged your curry shrimp, your steam fish, your jerk chicken. But I always thought I was unheard over that sizzling pot between us, I always thought you were too distracted to hear me, when you were listening the best you could.