Is that love you're cooking?

There was a particular moment, about two and a half years ago, when I decided I was going to learn to cook; it was one of the best things I ever did. Samuel was finally moving to London to move in with me, and we were going to build a home. I will admit that before this, I used to live off those fancy shmansy Marks and Spencer ready meals: I used to convince myself that as they contained no artificial flavourings, additives or chemically things, it didn't matter that, in order to eat, I had to punch holes into plastic every night. But somehow I had an idea that cooking would suit me; I would wear an old fashioned apron and have really snazzy kitchen gadgets, and whenever people would come to our home, they would be greeted by the sweet scent of buttery baked treats. In the words of Nigella Lawson, I would be a domestic goddess! And so armed with "Nigella Express", I braved the unknown and learnt to cook. The first recipe I ever cooked was her 'Rapid Ragu' and boy was it good. In retrospect, I think it was so good, simply because I proudly made it, with my own bear hands. I served it to Samuel with deep felt love and a beaming smile; I was a grown up!

With every recipe I tried, saucepan I bought and onion I chopped, I felt myself becoming more and more of a grown woman. As I finished cooking each meal, I would test my dish for seasoning; feeling like a true chef as I added a crushing of coarse sea salt, or a meaty grinding of pepper. I loved it! I knew I'd made it big (in my own kitchen at least) when I could finally juggle the culinary complexity of a roast dinner and its many accompaniments. I may have done it with the elegance and grace of an elephant, but I did it, and I was addicted!

Looking back, it was only a matter of time before I discovered the enthusiastic cook in me. You see, it was and is in my DNA. For decades, the age old question in my house has been "what do you want for dinner tomorrow?" It's a simple question that MUST be answered every night before going to sleep. So much so that my family are usually engaging in a deep discussion on what to have for tomorrow's dinner while still munching on tonight's. It is most ridiculous! My mother has always been concerned with feeding people; she likes to err on the side of caution, and therefore, always cooks far far too much. However, I will have to admit I am exactly the same. When people come over for dinner, they usually end up slumped on our sofa in a most ungraceful fashion, with their top trouser button undone. But you see, it's all done out of love. I suppose my family, myself included, equate feeding people with showing we care or showing affection. There is nothing nicer than giving someone you love their favourite meal, seeing their excitement as you serve it to them. Similarly, there is nothing more comforting than feeling all cozy and loved while your favourite meal is cooked for you. For me that's what cooking is all about.

Writing about this brings back memories of my maternal grandparents who I miss very much. They never had two pennies to rub together but there was always a home cooked meal on the table every night, made of the best ingredients they could afford. Granted you needed a chainsaw to cut through the meat and the vegetables could very easily be packaged in baby food jars, but this didn't matter; every night a meal was lovingly prepared and everyone ate together. My Nana made the best chips in the world; they were hand cut potatoes deep fried in dripping, basically a heart attack waiting to happen, but so very drool worthy. Growing up I used to call them Nana's chips and to this day I always think of her when I see a fat, greasy chip (I'm not sure she would be too pleased about this). Likewise, my Sicilian grandfather, made the most gorgeous, scrumptious Bolognese. It was rich and meaty, intense in flavour from the tomato paste, and the sheer volume of olive oil used, gave it a most pleasing glisten. It was lip smackingly good.

Even when my Nana was terminally ill and we were looking after her, she would always worry that there was food in the fridge for us every night. She couldn't cook, she was too ill, but that didn't matter. She needed to know that we wouldn't go hungry. Feeding us was her way of loving us and taking care of us. I am proud to say that she passed this onto my mother and now onto me.

Cooking together as a family is one my favourite things and I seriously urge you to take it up if you haven't already. My family start thinking about Christmas dinner almost as soon as New Year's comes around. It is the most important cooking day of the year and we don't half go to town. In the weeks before the Christmas period begins, my Mum begins to hoard in her usual style. She stocks up in batches every time she heads to the supermarket; if we ever happened to be snowed in and unable to escape, I assure you we would be fine until the first leaves of spring arrived. When Christmas morning arrives, the kitchen is overcrowded, hot and full of over eager foodies desperate for dinner. My Dad takes charge of the Turkey, which is a most amusing site to behold. You see, he starts with an oozy herb butter rub which he massages over the bird in a gentle and delicate manner; my mother is most jealous. As my Dad continues to fondle the turkey, my Mum prepares her famous roast potatoes; rich and sweet with goose fat coupled with a crunchy crisp coating of semolina. When we finally sit down to dinner, exhausted, hot and sweaty, a homemade, lovingly prepared feast beholds us. It is the best day of the year, not just because the food is culinary heaven but because the tradition of it all, is extremely special.

I have come to realize that food anchors my memories of my childhood, of my family and is now a big part of my marriage. There is something to be said for traditions; for passing down those special recipes (my Mother still cooks my Jewish Grandmother's Lokshen pudding). When I stand in my kitchen, lovingly roasting, stirring and baking, I realize I am my mother and my grandmother and I feel proud of that. As soon as my kids can sit, they are going to be on the countertops covered in flour, baking with me! I urge you all to become a domestic god/goddess and enjoy cooking for the ones you love. There is no warmer, cozier, yummy feeling than this.

As my Mum and I continue to share our love of cooking, I thought I would share her latest foodie gift to me. A hen for my eggs. I took these on my D90 with my 50mm lens.

For this entry, I had to tell you about my Mum's roasties. She got the idea for Semolina from Nigella Lawson, but to be fair, she's always cornered the market. I asked her to email me the recipe and here it is. The semolina gives them extra crunch, which goes so well with the buttery, squidgy middle. These potatoes will make you die and go to heaven; well there is so much fat in them you probably will.....

Mum's Roast Potatoes

Serves 6

1.5kg potatoes
6 tablespoons goose fat (if you're veggie you can use Toma-a nod to my Jewish roots)
3 tablespoons semolina
1 large onion cut into thick slices

Preheat oven to 200C

1. Put fat into a large roasting tin and then into the oven to heat up until very hot and smoking.
2. Put the potatoes into salted, cold water in a saucepan, and then bring to boil, letting them cook for 4 minutes
3. Drain the potatoes in a colander, then tip them back into the empty, dry saucepan, and sprinkle the semolina over.
4. Shake the potatoes around to coat them well and, with the lid, on give the pan a good shake
5. When the fat is hot take the tray from the oven and pour it into a jug. Put the potatoes into the roasting tray, and pour over the fat and place in the oven.
6. Cook for half and hour and turn the potatoes over and continue cooking until golden brown all over. Pour off the fat and give them 5 more minutes in the oven to finish crisping up. You may need to whack the oven up.

P.S. Our photographer has blogged a few layouts from our wedding album and she has included my blog link, how exciting! Have a peek if you like http://www.annarosell.com/blog/.                    

Thanks for reading and please leave a comment if I haven't exhausted you. I bet you want to eat now don't you?

xx