This series of stories will be titled ‘I’m surprised I turned out as well as I did, given my childhood…’ 10

From my father’s side of the family, on to my mother’s side and the memories there.

My grandmother (mother’s mother) was a large lady. I always remember her as being big – but obviously, I thought nothing of it, she was my grandmother and that was her.

We had a lot of cousins and we all caught up and congregated at Grandma Gladys and Grandad George’s house for special occasions – especially Christmas.

Because there were SO many of us, all Gladys’ daughters – Marjorie, Jean (my mother), and Christine – all gathered to help.

Christmas prep began in or around Gladys’ birthday (Halloween, much to the amusement and delight of my father).

The Christmas pudding was mixed up around then and put in the pantry to rest. I do wish I had that recipe, Christmas is one time where I actually enjoy cooking and I always make LOADS and try different recipes and methods.

Here’s a hint then:

If at all possible, ask your great-grandparents for recipes. Ask grandparents for recipes. Ask parents, aunts, uncles, cousins for family recipes. You can thank me later for that one!

The Christmas pudding was put high on a shelf in the pantry and ‘fed’ regularly. It was fed on spirits, sherry etc, and a close eye was kept on it.

That pantry was a magical place where we were strictly forbidden to go. Sometimes, a delicious treat would emerge, cake, date & walnut loaf, fruit etc.

On Christmas day, my mother would go and help out with preparing dinner.

I believe the kids were all kept at bay by the new toys they had. The blokes went off to the pub and their dinner was served at just after 2pm (giving them time to walk back from the pub). We (the kids and the women) had our dinner before. That served three purposes:

1. We had time and space to eat
2. When the blokes came back, we’d eaten and were cleared out of the way.
3. The men could be waited on for their dinner, without the kids distracting the waiting staff – I mean the women.

The pub they usually went to – The White Lion

A simple feast (if that’s even a thing) the tables were loaded with food - nothing fancy, all plain, home-cooked – but the amounts! The kitchen table was a hefty ‘farmhouse’ type table, with big, chunky legs and a broad thick top. It always had one of those thick wool-lined table covers to protect the wood.

The turkey sat on the table waiting to be carved and the plates were loaded up in the kitchen and we took our plates in and sat down (or the smaller kids had theirs brought to them).

We sat on benches borrowed from Uncle Edwin (more on him later) and we had grape juice which looked just like wine.

One of the stories I remember from then involved a very little me.

One Christmas, I badgered to have a taste of the wine. Apparently, I badgered so much I got very drunk. The tale was that I was led around the streets for a while to allow the cold air and exercise to sober me up.

That allegedly happened on my fifth Christmas.

Now, whether that story is true or an amusing, but fabricated anecdote, I couldn’t tell you. I don’t even remember flash-backs from that Christmas ;)

Yeah, getting a five-year-old drunk on Christmas wine would be abhorred these days, but back then – almost fifty years ago – it was one of those things…

No, I never got my kids drunk, no matter how old they were. Yes, they’ve tried wine and beer, but never to the extent that they were falling-down drunk.

I always remember the turkey being a bit dry – maybe that was because someone else had the leg meat and that’s the cut I prefer, or not, but that’s the reason I don’t cook turkey for Christmas dinner (well, that and the fact that we’d still be eating it in June). If my grandmother cooked turkey and it came out a little dry, then there’s NO way I’d be successful at cooking one.

She was an awesome cook. Nothing I ate there was ever not cooked to perfection. The chips (fries for the Americans) were golden and crisp and fluffy inside. Bread – oh my word, could she bake bread! Cakes, dinners, absolutely everything! And what I wouldn’t give to taste some of her cooking right now. No wonder she and Grandad George were big people!

She told me that when she and George were courting, one of George’s brothers said, “Well, if you marry her, you’ll never be starved.” I think the phrase was “You’ll never be clemmed” which means much the same thing up North.

After dinner there was my favourite Christmas (or ‘Plum’) Pudding. With THE most delicious sauce poured all over it – I’m sure it had a hint of spirits.

Now what you have to remember is that pantry… the one I never went into… (yeah, right. I was told not to go in there and so I did the exact opposite.) Well that pantry took on the delicious aroma of the Christmas Pudding. Over the few weeks to Christmas, my sneaky visits to open the pantry door became more and more frequent. The aroma was irresistible – and that was before it was cooked.

Can you imagine walking in through the back door (which led right into the kitchen) on Christmas morning to the smell of the pudding already steaming? Mixed with the smell of the turkey and other wonderful foods, I’m surprised I got excited about the rest of the events happening.

Again, the inventor who comes up with a way to go back in time to those wondrous days… never mind going back… just to bring the exquisite aromas – but that wouldn’t be enough… we’d also need the tastes and then where would we stop?

I know that I can never recreate those get-togethers, those family traditions, but I can create family traditions for our children and their families.

I was never all that interested in learning how to cook and I suppose I’m exceptionally fortunate that the skill, to some extent at least, is genetic.

I subscribe to the ‘I wonder what this will do’ and ‘Let’s just try…’ methods of cooking.

The shame of that is, there are still no recipes to pass down. I don’t measure much, and I chuck whatever I have to hand into the mix, so this year’s Christmas dinner will be different from last year’s.

Too early for this?

Images from Google