Judith Henderson’s Wine & Country Living

I recently stopped at Harvest Foods for a few lemons and then headed for home. As I turned the corner, I saw my 88-year-old father standing at my door. He had just driven all the way from Bethel Island, California, out in the Sacramento Delta, to visit me in Dayton.

There he stood, in his familiar khaki pants and red Hawai­ian shirt, sporting a goatee and giving me the peace sign. Dad was a Merchant Marine during World War II. He sailed the Pacific from San Francisco to Hawaii, barely es­caping the bombing of Pearl Harbor, and he loves to cook. No problem: "Dad's turn to cook." So I sat back a...