Puddings, Desserts, Sweets or Afters, there’s always been a wide variety of ways as how to end a meal, never mind what to call them. Your choices will in the main part depend on where you grew up. Continue reading “Chill or Hot with Apricot.”
As a Channel Islander, wariness of the sea has been ingrained since childhood. Regular three hour ferry trips from Weymouth to visit my family in Guernsey taught me that the English Channel was not always calm. Neither was the sea passage between Holyhead and Dun Laoghaire when we moved to Dublin for a year in the late 50s. Continue reading “I do like to be by the seaside”
This is in praise of the humble chard – a vegetable that I never tasted until I was in my early twenties. Despite my mother growing vegetables and always keeping an eye on the costs, for some reason, chard never turned up on our plates. In fact, I didn’t even know it existed when I first tasted this dark, green leaf in a meal cooked in Andalucía by my formidable future mother-in-law. Continue reading “An Ode to Chard”
“My salad days. When I was green in judgment, cold in blood.” Anthony & Cleopatra, William Shakespeare.
Salads in the 50s meant lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers with the occasional spring onion thrown in. Once a week, nursery tea was a salad accompanied by tinned pilchards or tinned pink salmon – red salmon was reserved for special occasions. Sardines, well sardines as Fiona’s post describes, were to be spread on toast. Continue reading “Salad Days”
Why do some people have a sweet tooth and others don’t? Both my parents were born during the First World War when the Germans U-boats cut off Britain from much of its supplies. Food products included potatoes and sugar were particularly affected. By the end of 1917, people began to fear that the country was running out of food and started panic buying – and this, in turn, led to shortages. Therefore in January 1918, the Ministry of Food decided to introduce rationing and sugar was first on their list. Continue reading “A Particular Sweet Tooth”
As a child in the 50s, it was normal to pass by the butcher’s window and see the furry corpses of rabbits and indeed hares swinging on hooks. Continue reading “Where Has All The Rabbit Gone?”
Sardines (the canned variety) are a bit like Marmite – you either like them or you don’t. My father and his mother were fans and my mother and her mother weren’t. Tea with Granny ‘Kenzie (a meal that took place in the early evening), often involved sardines on toast, mashed up with butter and put under the gas grill. My mother’s mother, Granny Hughes, didn’t like the oily, fishy smell – her house smelt of bleach, Vim cleaning powder, and furniture polish – but the strong sardine odour clearly didn’t bother Granny ‘Kenzie. I suspect the fact that sardines were, and still are, so cheap, was another reason Granny ‘Kenzie liked them. Continue reading “Canned Sardines – A Family Affair”
Growing up it was hard not to learn to love all things French. My father’s family come from Guernsey, an island that is approximately forty-three miles from the French coast, and double that from the UK mainland. Continue reading “The Sage of a Francophile”
Back in 2012, I was asked to test this recipe for pea and courgette salad by my step-step-grand-daughter Niaomh, who was editing and publishing The Deptford Community Cookbook. Since then, the salad has become a spring-time favourite of mine. But before we get into peas and their pods, I suspect you’re trying to work out what is a ‘step-step-grand-daughter’? Let me explain… Continue reading “One Step, Two Steps – Peas In A Pod”
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Judi Chadaway and Fiona McKenzie