Unfiltered Story #326516

When my dad’s aunt passed, he relayed some of his childhood memories of her to me on the drive to the funeral. I thought this was a cute one.

My father was the youngest of his siblings, and thus a very curious child. His aunt was from Ireland and moved to the US a few years before she married my grandfather’s brother. She held strong to her Irish accent, manners, and hospitality.

His aunt was a great cook in the home. She always made delicious, extravagant meals, not only for holidays, but for nearly any day of the week. Whenever my father as a child went to their house for dinner, he would bound into the kitchen and ask my aunt what was for dinner. She always responded the same, “Pheasant under glass.” They never actually had pheasant, but my father didn’t hold her to it.

Years later, when my parents were opening their wedding gifts, my father came across a large box from his aunt and uncle. When he opened it, he found…a serving platter with a depiction of a pheasant on it underneath a glass cloche. He made sure to have it out every meal she attended until her passing.