My challenging(ly) talented parents argued over who has the best hake batter recipe. My mother swears by the recipe of her mother, as she does with all her recipes. But my jack-in-a-box pops prefers his own intuition with a pinch of nostalgia.
Of course he also credits the wisdom of his mother but when the pot boils down to a reduction, she can only get credit in the wisps of nostalgia that linger in your nose and tickle your palate.
So thanks to my competitive nature I so furiously received wrapped in a box of genes, I challenged them to a batter bake off.