Cooking is my passion, how did I arrive here? My Mother, now most people will rave about their Mother's cooking - with me it's the opposite my Mother couldn't cook, no that's unfair she could cook - 2 things - soup and an old Scottish favourite called Stovies - but honestly that was it. There are family stories about the Christmas where she nuked portions of Christmas Pudding in the microwave and slopped some milk on top - Christmas Dinners were SUCH a disappointment. She also boiled cabbage for hours, yes we would have been better off drinking the water but did we know that? No, food was just the wallpaper hanging on the wall, we had it but no-one took any notice of it, it was just something that had to be done, fuel for the body not the soul.
In my early adulthood I went out to dinner, cooking? Not for me, how boring, what is there to get excited about? Somewhere deep inside me was my distant Italian heritage's love of food, just desperate to get out, it arrived with my first child, he was sensitive to additives, and I wanted the best for this gorgeous boy of mine and he was going to get it.
One Christmas a very kind boss, Chris Pouncey, bought me a cookbook and this I had to dig out of the attic to where it had been banished many years before, I still have it, it's called The Creative Cook by Mary Berry (I had no idea who she was at the time), it's been well-thumbed and has fallen apart, the recipes of 30 years ago are so different from today BUT it taught me the basics, how to boil an egg, how to make a basic sauce, what to do with this hard stuff they call pasta, that may sound a bit basic but trust me when you leave home and you only know how to use a can opener and put a Fray Bentos pie in the oven then it was exactly what I needed.
So now I'm starting my own blog about my cooking, like the millions of us foodies around the world ... I hope you'll try some of my recipes and enjoy them as I do - I look forward to making new friends through this blog, if you have anything to say or have any suggestions to add to my recipes I'd love to hear them.
Ah, the smell of cabbage. What a fond memory :o)
ReplyDeleteIt was my first and only row with Mum,when I said I didn't want my cabbage boiled for over 30 minutes :((
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