I can't say he was a good cook sadly. I had chicken kievs for 8 years straight because when I was 9 years old i mentioned that i liked them and so he bought them religiously for me. 

One dinner time me and my sister came down stairs and sat at the dinner table. Dad had cooked sausage chips and beans, a pretty standard normal meal. 

The sausages however were cremated, had been reduced to a crunchy shell of just carbon. The nutritional value had been evaporated out them, these things were burnt.

I glanced at my sister across the dinner table with a solemn look and we both decided to just get on with it and eat it. My sister being the joker she us decided to pick up her two charred "sausages" off her plate and proceeded to look me dead on the eye as she rubbed them together, mimicking making a fire with them.

I had to hold my breath tears brimmed in the sides of my eyes, I couldn't laugh because it would hurt dads feelings but despite my efforts me and my sister broke down crying laughing. 

Dad got all riled up and tried to defend his charcoal sausages, it's one of my many find memories of our little family.