My mothers cooking! When asked about my mothers cooking, I have to think back a long way as I have been married to Bernice for over 54 years. The meals from my pre-marital days are long forgotten. Faint memories of wartime rationing where my mother used to go shopping every day to get some unrationed extras, maybe a few potatoes or some other supplementary foods that were in short supply and the long weary drag back from the far distant shops. I only remember her coming home one day and collapsing as she came through the door, whether from illness or shear exhaustion giving us all the fright of our young lives.My father never ever did anything in the kitchen, not even boil the kettle, and if he ever had it was only in his Army days. I never ever knew him to go anywhere near the kitchen, never mind assist in any way. That was not men’s work, that was only for the women to do. He had a much more important role in Society; he was the breadwinner not the baker!As a cook my mother made tasty meals and was a fairly talented cook, her mother was a magnificent cook and baker and was of the “handfa” school of cooking. Not for her the slavish following of recipes, just take little of this and a “handfa” of that, throw it in to a pot or pan and she had a masterpiece! Mum did not have her innate skill but could produce tasty food if she could concentrate long enough. What was the obstacle to her being as good as Granny? While she had this talent her greatest skills were as a raconteur, she was a person who collected people and their stories, she was not a gossip telling tales against others, she was a bearer of tidings, some good, and some bad. She had a knack +All these stories had to be shared with others and there was no better place to have a captive audience than at the dinner table. The food would come to the table steaming hot and be placed there ready to be served and as we all salivated she would start telling us some long-winded story involving people we did not wish to know or even care about. This meant the food did not get served and it grew cold as we waited for this weary tale to be told. She could not talk and serve at the same time, so we got cold food and she would announce, “I can’t bear cold food, I am off to put this in the oven again!” We never got the offer to reheat our food as she went back to the kitchen, we were left eating our now cold food. Another maddening habit of hers which drove us “Up the wall” was when she made her wonderful roast potatoes and chips, she claimed that she would not eat these as they were fattening. So she never counted herself in the number of people to be fed and always only cooked enough for the people at the table minus one, her. Then of course she did eat them and we were all left wanting more but there was no more, there wasn’t even enough to go round! If this sounds as if we went hungry, this was certainly not the case, we were probably just being greedy, and like Oliver Twist we were just asking for second helpings much to her shocked surprise. She never changed this was her style, Next time I’ll make more but she never did.|
Written by red-sauce (38 comments posted) 12th April 2009 | | Can I suggest paragraphs or a different font, this made my eyes go funny really quickly and I couldnt finish it. That may be a personal thing though. |
Written by Phil (8698 comments posted) 17th April 2009 | Seconded.
Phil |
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