What food do you turn to when poorly? I love homemade soup or homemade chunky chips. I think it’s because it takes me back to my childhood when my grandma would come round with a bottle of Lucazade (the proper stuff in a glass bottle with orange cellophane wrapped around it) and watch Mary Poppins, Bedknobs and Broomsticks or Grease with me. My mum would make soup or chips and we would sit in front of the tv wrapped in my duvet, dosed up on medicine, stinking of Vicks and I would feel completely pampered and loved.
When my children are ill I do the same for them, after all it is a mothers right to want to ‘molly coddle’ our children for as long as possible isn’t it? Don’t get me wrong they have to be properly poorly – sniffles and a runny nose just won’t cut it.
After recent weeks of my children having scarlet fever, bad colds (mens equivalent is man flu I believe), bumped heads which has resulted in concussion to name but a few (they say it comes in 3’s but I am on number 5!) I feel like I should have shares in Lucazade, Vicks and Calpol with the amount purchased of late.
However comfort food has remained top on the list, homemade chicken soup, tomato soup and (when they got better enough to eat properly) homemade chips curtesy of their granny – have all be consumed.
And all the love, attention and ‘molly coddling’ has worked – they are now fit and healthy playing football, swimming, violin and all the other activities they so love. Which is exactly how I love to see them.
Ironically, I now have the blasted flu; I type armed with a vat of Lucazade and chicken soup curtesy of my mum on the hob, looking like Olive off of the 1970’s TV programme ‘On The Buses’ stinking of Vicks and nodding (to sleep) like the Churchill dog.
So my question to you all; what is your comfort food and comfort place to be when you are ill??
I hope everyone is in good health, stay positive and thanks for reading, B x
Memories of family cooking and childhood food experiences aren’t all rosy and nostalgic. Our experiences with food as we grow up shape all our preferences, including our strong, can’t-change-’em, never-shake-’em food avoidances.
What were your worst childhood memories and experiences of food? Anything that scarred you so bad you won’t eat it to this day? Or have you overcome all of your childhood food loathings?
My childhood avoidance was fairly cliché: Bananas are the devils food. The whole texture, taste and smell of this loathsome fruit repulses me. My trainer and physiotherapist encourage me every time I see them to eat them as a good source of fuel blah blah blah…………but NO! I will not have it. Don’t get me wrong, because of their wholesome, nutritious goodness I have tried time and time again to eat them only to spit it out and hug the glass of wine as a deserving prize for trying.
When I was 18 and in the summer before I started university I worked in a chicken factory for two days and a mushroom factory for a day. The chicken factory was horrendous, disturbing and afterwards I refused to eat poultry for 6 months due to the experience…….however Christmas came and so did the smell of dinner cooking, especially the Turkey, and I caved tucking in like I had never eaten a piece of poultry before in my life.
My dear friend is another who can not abide sweetcorn. If it is on pizza, in a tuna pasta dish, in a sandwich – whatever it is in or on she can not eat it and will pick it out a piece at a time until all remanence of sweetcorn are removed. Like my experience with bananas she can not even stand the smell.
What about you? What are your worst childhood memories of food or personal dislike?\
As always, thanks for reading, B x
Dream kitchens and an Aga; When I was a child my grandma had a Aga in her huge kitchen. In the middle of the kitchen was a huge sold thick wooden table that sat 8 with ease.
Her kitchen was the hub of the house. Everyone congregated around the table, mainly to eat her gorgeous cooking, drink granddads home brewed ale and cider or to get warm with a cuppa tea.
In the winter months we would all huddle in there as it was always lovely and warm. My memories at Christmas time are of my dad and granddad laughing so loudly (alcohol infused) and my grandma smothering my brother and I in ‘cider kisses’ are some of my fondest memories.
In the summer months she would have the big french doors open (back in the early 80’s, the doors were just known as patio doors, we weren’t that posh to call them ‘french’, don’t forget we live in Yorkshire!) and my brother and I would run in and out, tormenting my grandma by stealing the buns, pasties or whatever else came out of that Aga and running off to the tree house to gobble them up.
As I grew older my favourite place was sat in my grandmas high backed armchair next to the Aga. I didn’t care what was cooking on it, nor what actually came out of it. But I loved the warmth it perspired and the fact I could watch my grandma at work, cooking up feasts and making food (as she put it) with love. Talking to her with not a care in the world.
Today I love being in the kitchen and like my grandma before me, the kitchen is the hub of my house, it is where we eat all our meals, its where the children do homework, play with puzzles and play doh as I cook……..However in my dream kitchen I have a huge Aga just like my gran. A mammoth cooker that makes such a big statement no one can miss it.
So my question to all who’ve kindly read this blog……what would your dream kitchen be like and what must it have in it and why??
We would love to know you’re thoughts.
As always thanks for reading, B x