For 364 days of the year, I’m at the mercy of my family and career. But there’s one day I get to do exactly what I want. Here’s how it should go down:
Wake up early and spend the morning reading The New Yorker in my seersucker Sleepy Jones pajamas ($293; sleepyjones.com).
Watch ESPN SportsCenter while my daughters make me biscuits stuffed with Jimmy Dean sausage (judge away!) and slathered with honey butter. See more Father’s Day brunch recipes →
You shouldn’t have! My family gives me a Garmin Forerunner 620 watch ($450; garmin.com), and it’s off for a run over the Brooklyn Bridge. This baby tracks distance, heart rate, route, and calories burned.
A picnic in the park with my ladies. It includes pimiento cheese sandwiches, Grandma Utz’s potato chips, Ibérico de bellota ham, and Basque dry cider.
Go biking with my older daughter, Julep, on her new Linus. (The Lil’ Dutchi, $319; linusbike.com)
Chill in a hammock on the Chattahoochee, while listening to a Braves game on the radio. But wait—this is Brooklyn. A patch of park grass and a Mets game will have to do.
Back at home, crack some ice for a 50-50 Martini: half gin, half dry vermouth, a few drops of orange bitters, and a grapefruit twist. Always stir, never shake.
The ultimate Father’s Day feast? Pan-fried chicken from The Gift of Southern Cooking, Anson Mills white hominy grits, my mom’s green beans (superporky and slow-cooked until soft), buttery mashed potatoes, more biscuits, and spicy pickled okra.
Build Lego tree houses with my kids and then read them James Thurber’s Many Moons. We all fall asleep together.
Wake up. Binge on season four of Game of Thrones.
Fall asleep again, this time on the couch—just like my dad does.
Follow Andrew Knowlton on Instagram @andrewoknowlton