365 Days

My mother was a gourmet cook. But she didn’t start out that way.

She was always a good cook, but came from a rather mundane background (gastronomically speaking.)

Her mother was Irish and her father was English.  Two cultures not exactly known for their wild culinary dishes.

She knew how to make the basics, roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, fish and chips, Sheppard’s pie, bubble and squeak.

All good food but not exactly inspired.

Which is what my father said one day, “We seem to eat the same thing over and over.”

Well……………………

You didn’t throw down the gauntlet in front of my mother and expect her not to rise to the challenge!

So she started her plan.

She researched (and this was way before the internet made researching so easy!) This was in the days of actually going to the library! Which is what she did.

She scoured old cookbooks, she read all the women’s magazines, she wrote to friends and relatives for recipes.

She read the papers every Sunday to see what was on sale and planned accordingly.

She prepared meals that would have made Escoffier weep!

One night as we sat at the dinner table, my mother came out of the kitchen with my father’s plate, set it in front of him and said, “This is the three hundred and sixty fifth meal, not counting lunches, I have made for you since your complaint. And NOT ONCE did I repeat one single meal! Including leftovers! I never want to hear you complain again!”

He didn’t.