Welcome, come on in. Let’s discuss our favourite food memories.
If you have ever listened to the ‘Desert Island Discs,’ the general theme of the conversation with each guest is music memories, along with choosing three favourite items to take with them to this mythical desert island.
does something similar. Inviting her guests to choose their favourite food memories, especially the ones chosen from their latest cookbook, which they also discussed on the show.
I would love to hear your favourite food memories.
Dip in and out of the discussion as often as you wish. There will be a new ‘Open Kitchen’ thread next weekend. Lynn x
Money was tight when I was a lad so no artichokes or Parmesan. But anyway, we had something better, jam and bread fritters. White Mother’s Pride, butter and any jam. Made the sandwich, dipped into a plain batter then into a frying pan with plenty of hot oil. Crispy, sweet and filling. Oh, and cheap. We ate loads of those things.
Yes, they were a tad salty. But they did fill you up. At the time, it seemed a culinary thing to coat a slice of spam in batter and fry it. Happy days. :-)
Loved soft white bread at my godmother’s house- living with my ahead of the game grandmother meant i had to eat wholemeal bread every day. The joy of the softness, un nutritious bread which I would take the crusts off and roll into a ball like play doh and devoured! Also scrambled eggs after school every day and a toasted tea cake! That was at 330-4 and then I would join my mum and grandparents for dinner at 6 - I loved my food. Left over roast monday, liver and onions tuesday, sausages and mash Wednesday, pork chops Thursday and fish Friday- all bought daily from the butcher and all veggies grown in the garden. Thank you - you have taken me back in time this morning xxxx
Liver and onions. That takes me back. I don’t think I could cook liver as good as my mother did. It’s amazing how a prompt, like this, can transform us back to happy times and the influence food has in our lives.
In the mid 1950's I remember eating succulent sweet and juicy rabbit. My dad used to ride a motor bike and if memory serves me well, he occasionally brought home a road kill for my mother to cook!
Good timing Lynn. I've been writing about my memory of lunch at my grandparents house as part of a post about larders and pantries, going out on Monday.
I have so many memories around food it's hard to choose. But one stands out- an experience I had in the mid seventies with my father.
We were staying with a friend in Switzerland and took her out to a highly acclaimed restaurant on the shores of Lake Luzern.
The setting was spectacular. The lake waters lapping on the shore close to our table , soft candlelight, and the mountains towering in
the distance.
The food and service were faultless. I particularly remember the rostii, veal and the french service. We had crepes Suzette flambéed at our table and the local Swiss wine was a revelation.
I was very young at the time and was very impressed. To be fair my father and his friend were too.
I've had other memorable meals over a lifetime but this stands out as the one to which all others are compared. I don't think there has ever been better. 💗
I go back a long time but to this day I can recall and *smell* what was for dinner - when mom was roasting or braising chicken … same for pork chops or a roast.
In the olden days before the meat industry used GMO feed for livestock or had started to inject preservatives, hormones, there was a natural organic aroma and flavor. That may have fed the masses and prevented disease and saved a few lives but it decimated meat - and totally took the flavor out. Everything over time was altered.
No matter how I prepare a dish now, there is rarely a discernible (meat) aroma of what I’m cooking. The flavor is just meh-okay. (It’s not my smeller or taste buds either!) I’m happy to say though come Thanksgiving turkey 🦃 THAT is still one flavorful roast that rises to the occasion - it’s an enticing welcome to the table.
To the younger readers this may sound absurd, but this all true!
Now that I think about it, our childhood Sunday dinners had a certain aroma about them that you don't get today. The meatyness, that also comes out when you make gravy. I can smell and almost taste my mother's roast beef with Yorkshire puddings, she always made big ones, and plenty of onion gravy.
I think my happiest mementoes are sitting in the kitchen chatting to mum. It’s where we’d catch up on family news. All the while she’d be making a chicken curry or a dhal, simple family meals. I’d be watching which spices were used, the tamarind squeezed, coconut milk poured, this is how I learned to make Sri Lankan food. Pretty much by osmosis!
During the six-week summer holidays when I was a child, my mum and my aunt used to take it in turns around their work schedules to take me, my siblings and my cousins to the beach. We weren't particularly well-off back then so we didn't have holidays abroad. Each day we'd have a perfectly adequate lunch box prepped by our Mum, but not always exciting (sorry, Mum!). On the days when we were taken by our aunt, we were often given snacks from the treasure chest of goodies that was their bright blue cool box. My favourite treat was the fig roll. We didn't have those at our house. I also remember the first time I was asked if I wanted a "Gary Baldy" (Garibaldi), not quite understanding the connection between this currant-filled biscuit and a bald man named Gary. I have very fond memories of our summer holidays, running riot on the beaches of Whitsand Bay in Cornwall and the ritual of eating a snack as soon as I got out of the sea, wrapped in my towel, and being scolded for dripping water over all of the sandwhiches in the cool box.
Money was tight when I was a lad so no artichokes or Parmesan. But anyway, we had something better, jam and bread fritters. White Mother’s Pride, butter and any jam. Made the sandwich, dipped into a plain batter then into a frying pan with plenty of hot oil. Crispy, sweet and filling. Oh, and cheap. We ate loads of those things.
I remember spam fritters with chips.
I love a spam fritter and mushy peas
Yes, so do I, very salty if I remember correctly. Filling though.
Yes, they were a tad salty. But they did fill you up. At the time, it seemed a culinary thing to coat a slice of spam in batter and fry it. Happy days. :-)
Spam frit
Loved soft white bread at my godmother’s house- living with my ahead of the game grandmother meant i had to eat wholemeal bread every day. The joy of the softness, un nutritious bread which I would take the crusts off and roll into a ball like play doh and devoured! Also scrambled eggs after school every day and a toasted tea cake! That was at 330-4 and then I would join my mum and grandparents for dinner at 6 - I loved my food. Left over roast monday, liver and onions tuesday, sausages and mash Wednesday, pork chops Thursday and fish Friday- all bought daily from the butcher and all veggies grown in the garden. Thank you - you have taken me back in time this morning xxxx
Liver and onions. That takes me back. I don’t think I could cook liver as good as my mother did. It’s amazing how a prompt, like this, can transform us back to happy times and the influence food has in our lives.
I love it - thank you! Yes It was a war time knack - always soft and unctuous
In the mid 1950's I remember eating succulent sweet and juicy rabbit. My dad used to ride a motor bike and if memory serves me well, he occasionally brought home a road kill for my mother to cook!
Good timing Lynn. I've been writing about my memory of lunch at my grandparents house as part of a post about larders and pantries, going out on Monday.
Interesting. I’ll look out for it.
Oh yea, I’ve just remembered something. Sterilised milk, the stuff with a crown cap. Weird flavour.
I have so many memories around food it's hard to choose. But one stands out- an experience I had in the mid seventies with my father.
We were staying with a friend in Switzerland and took her out to a highly acclaimed restaurant on the shores of Lake Luzern.
The setting was spectacular. The lake waters lapping on the shore close to our table , soft candlelight, and the mountains towering in
the distance.
The food and service were faultless. I particularly remember the rostii, veal and the french service. We had crepes Suzette flambéed at our table and the local Swiss wine was a revelation.
I was very young at the time and was very impressed. To be fair my father and his friend were too.
I've had other memorable meals over a lifetime but this stands out as the one to which all others are compared. I don't think there has ever been better. 💗
What a lovely memory to have.
I go back a long time but to this day I can recall and *smell* what was for dinner - when mom was roasting or braising chicken … same for pork chops or a roast.
In the olden days before the meat industry used GMO feed for livestock or had started to inject preservatives, hormones, there was a natural organic aroma and flavor. That may have fed the masses and prevented disease and saved a few lives but it decimated meat - and totally took the flavor out. Everything over time was altered.
No matter how I prepare a dish now, there is rarely a discernible (meat) aroma of what I’m cooking. The flavor is just meh-okay. (It’s not my smeller or taste buds either!) I’m happy to say though come Thanksgiving turkey 🦃 THAT is still one flavorful roast that rises to the occasion - it’s an enticing welcome to the table.
To the younger readers this may sound absurd, but this all true!
Now that I think about it, our childhood Sunday dinners had a certain aroma about them that you don't get today. The meatyness, that also comes out when you make gravy. I can smell and almost taste my mother's roast beef with Yorkshire puddings, she always made big ones, and plenty of onion gravy.
Exactly! Thx for the reply
I think my happiest mementoes are sitting in the kitchen chatting to mum. It’s where we’d catch up on family news. All the while she’d be making a chicken curry or a dhal, simple family meals. I’d be watching which spices were used, the tamarind squeezed, coconut milk poured, this is how I learned to make Sri Lankan food. Pretty much by osmosis!
During the six-week summer holidays when I was a child, my mum and my aunt used to take it in turns around their work schedules to take me, my siblings and my cousins to the beach. We weren't particularly well-off back then so we didn't have holidays abroad. Each day we'd have a perfectly adequate lunch box prepped by our Mum, but not always exciting (sorry, Mum!). On the days when we were taken by our aunt, we were often given snacks from the treasure chest of goodies that was their bright blue cool box. My favourite treat was the fig roll. We didn't have those at our house. I also remember the first time I was asked if I wanted a "Gary Baldy" (Garibaldi), not quite understanding the connection between this currant-filled biscuit and a bald man named Gary. I have very fond memories of our summer holidays, running riot on the beaches of Whitsand Bay in Cornwall and the ritual of eating a snack as soon as I got out of the sea, wrapped in my towel, and being scolded for dripping water over all of the sandwhiches in the cool box.