Over the last few years, I've been stealing the odd minute here and there to work on a personal project around food, writing, gathering and organising ideas. I've been struck by the passage of time and the evocative power that food gives us. Possessing the remarkable ability to transport us back to places and moments where we first savoured new flavours. These, our personal food stories carry profound significance. They serve as anchors, grounding us and connecting us to our origins, much like a set of concealed hooks that secure our timeline.
Growing up in a rural village that boasted a corner shop, a post office, and a local bakery I now know it was more well equipped than some. There was also the added bonus of the nearby paper mill, which ensured enough footfall to keep a fish and chip shop going. Although it was seemingly governed by the moon's cycle and the alignment of the stars in terms of opening times. The nearest town had a freezer centre, that offered all manner of time saving food luxuries from oven chips, beef burgers, breaded cod, through to mint chocolate mousse or dads favourite a chocolate gateau which was never given the time to defrost properly, or worse still left in the car overnight in its packaging!
Takeout was a genuine indulgence for us. It entailed a six-mile round trip to the closest Chinese takeaway, or a special treat saved for camping holidays. Some forty years on and we are a long way from Kansas! Partly because I live in the capital of Scotland, with a supermarket round every corner, and the internet at my fingertips. I can get food delivered from all manner of competing establishments. With a few keystrokes, a post code, and a mouse click I can get someone to put a tea bag in a cup, add hot water and it will get raced across town by a friendly cyclist who would give a Tour de France entrant a run for their money.
My son during one of the less stringent moments of lockdown had a few friends round in the garden. The doorbell went more than a few times, as random food deliveries appeared. Our off-Deliveroo grid status blown, at the same time the guys bonded over fries and rice in the sunshine. Maybe they will remember that day, maybe they won't as there was no real effort on their part.
Amidst the hustle and bustle of our fast-paced society, it is my hope that my sons reminisce about the food that graced our table at home, the crazy experiments both good and bad. Cherished memories of togetherness and familiar habits sat around the table. While the food itself may sometimes take a backseat to the company, it will predominantly be homemade, prepared with care and affection, serving as a conduit for connection and the creation of a meaningful food narrative. The hooks in their timeline.
Undoubtedly, the allure of convenient alternatives like pre-packaged meals and super-sized take-outs will occasionally tempt us in our time-constrained lives. It's only natural to seek convenience in such a fast-paced world. However, it is vital to find a delicate balance between convenience and conscious eating.
The stories and words that follow are all about sharing a connection through food, from my table to yours, without the cyclist! This collection serves as a guide in some parts, offering lessons, reflections, and ideas in others. As a self-taught cook, I've picked up recipes along the way. I've stood in the supermarket aisle, unable to find the exact ingredients recommended by a recipe, and I've faced the reality of the price tag on some items, prompting me to seek an alternative. There have been moments when I scrutinised sugar content and decided it didn't align with my preferences at the time. I’ve also strayed from the beaten path as life so often does, but for me, food has remained a constant, a source of comfort, a way to give and provide. These reflections are born from the experiences of such a cook and the relationship we share through food with ourselves and with the people we enjoy it with.
As a family we’ve used food to connect with each other. The table the centre of the home no matter where we live or we’re we are. Sometimes a fold away camping table, and if we are lucky in the sunshine. Others huddled up around a pop-up table in the camper van hiding from the rain or worse the Scottish midge! Fortunate to have a big old house of late, the problems have always been put to rights at the end of the working day. A transition from the world of work, school, and exams. The kitchen table and the food has been a north star of connection.
I look forward to reading what's next. So many of our memories are tied in with food.
A lovely introduction - looking forward to reading more!