I had a conversation with my daughter, a few days ago, about the pros and cons of home cooking. She’s a thirtysomething who loves to create meals from scratch. She likes to experiment with the new, but leans heavily toward the tried, tested and traditional. Like many of her generation, at least one of her feet is searching for a hold in the past. Who can wonder at it? With the way the world is, the lives of previous generations must seem like heaven, in some respects. A more simple existence, less stress, a side on which the grass was so much greener, although not yet used as a garnish. In fact, a life-map straight from the tongue-in-cheek scripts of Bob Larbey and John Esmonde.
Hang on, though, wait a minute. Weren’t we talking about home cooking? Yes, we were. Ha! I grew up in the 50’s and 60’s, the heyday of convenience. In fact, I am a product of pre-prepared and processed provisions. My mum worked, would you believe, in a school kitchen? She didn’t have the time to concoct something from scratch every weekday. So it was invariably a BirdsEye banquet of beefburgers, fish fingers, or fish steaks in a tasteless sauce. Home baking was a weekend or holiday treat. Given the amount of antioxidants and preservatives that have permeated my being, I should still look about sixteen years old. *Looks in mirror* Hmm, additives were obviously a lot weaker back then.
Anyway, I’d like to tell you that my mum was a some kind of hippy chick who not only raised us, but a few eyebrows too. But she wasn’t/didn’t. Although she often walked to the shops, barefoot, and was tagged with the nickname “Sandy” for her sins. I’d like to tell you that she was into Herbie Mann, but she leaned more toward The Seekers and Bert Kaempfert. Oh well, I like him. Here’s a helping of ‘Memphis Underground’. Feel free to come back for ‘seconds’.