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When Mum is away...

Rosie, Cargilfield, aged 12

Mum is cook, and she cooks good food. Good being good for you. Good food for me would be things like macaroni cheese or lasagne or toad in the hole. Normally though, mum would cook something like spinach and artichoke bake or chickpea and radish soup. Like I said, she cooked food that is good for you. 

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Keywords (not used): 
home, cooking, food

Childhood Memories, A Kitchen Garden 1950

Elspeth Anderson

In the autumn of 1950 my family relocated to Temple Village. Our new home was an old stone cottage, roses round the door and an untamed garden. Post-war, government issue ration books were still required for groceries, just one shop in the street. Relatives in New York dispatched food parcels from overseas. Tinned fruit, peaches, apricots, biscuits – the delivery of the box caused great excitement.

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A Roll and Square Sausage

Margaret Lilley

I turn the key into the door, the one I’ve stepped through countless times. As doors go it’s never been that impressive, it once was heavier, wooden and weighted for fire safety, painted a dark glossy green with the silver numbers placed together to make an 18. At some time over the years, it was updated to a PVC white door with glass panels – equally unimpressive. To me, though, it was the gateway to my safe place. Home.

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Keywords (not used): 
home, family, life cycles, memories

The Stove

Julia Carman

When I say we had an Aga, most people imagine a large black stove, sat where it should be in the cosy kitchen of a pretty country cottage. Instead, our dull blue model dominated the modest, 1950’s bungalow, built by my parents. And when I say they built it, I mean that even Mum helped dig out the footings, plaster the walls and tile the bathroom. They were skint newlyweds. So when a neighbour said – I’m throwing out my old stove, you’d be doing me a favour – they borrowed a horse and cart and enlisted the help of a few strong men.

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Keywords (not used): 
cooking, family, home, baking, childhood, comfort

Nature's Dining Table

Yvonne Jack

Gardens like mine now provide a lifeline to so many creatures as hedges are grubbed up, fields plastered with pesticides and waterways polluted with run-off. From the invertebrates, which chomp their way through fallen leaves, broken branches and rotten wood, to the town fox, which I came face to face with recently one evening through my conservatory door.

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Keywords (not used): 
gardening, home, animals, comfort, nutrition

Homestead

Pemma Lhamo

Raining again, cold and wet, it is meant to be summer. No gardening today. I open my laptop. Click onto Facebook. Sign in. Post from Facebook.

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Keywords (not used): 
family, comfort, make your own, home, memories, foraging, baking

Pick Your Own

When I was younger, we lived in a small town now known mostly for hosting a large golf tournament and supplying the local hotel trade with a range of Z-list celebrities. My dad owned a small farm that sold pick-your-own produce and eggs. While it barely broke even most of the time, tilling the earth was, and still is, in his blood. He persevered through the many lean days, introducing me to the basics of agriculture by asking me to help my gran gather several pounds of raspberries for a customer order.

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Changing Tables

Gourock, circa 1985

I’m standing in the small kitchen, at my mother’s side, in front of an aging electric cooker. It’s a Saturday, and I’m learning how to make scones, because we’ll have them on the table later for high tea. Saturday is always high tea in our house. In principle perhaps (although there’s always baking), it’s the day off from cooking for my mum – we’ll just have a shell pie, or boiled eggs, or Findus’ crispy pancakes.

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The White Villa

Nella Piatek

I recall that day; the weather was intensifying in heat and the summer was most unbearable of them all. As Natalie and I lay on her white, silken decorated bed, our pubescent limbs hanging from all sides and eyes focused on the equally white ceiling, we decided to visit Natalie’s family in Ostrava for a family dinner. We have long nourished the ambition to discover different lands and seas that this world has to offer, but as young folks, with only a backpack and our own wafer-thin legs – we decided to head east of our own lands first.

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Keywords (not used): 
memories, childhood, summer, travel, family, home, hiking

Taste of a Life

Rhona Godfrey

There’s an old saying that if you think your own family is strange, wait till you get married.

These are some ‘food’ memories from my childhood in the Sixties in a Glasgow tenement.

We lived off Byres Road (a posh area of Glasgow) but on a low income. I had free school meals, and our secondary’s ‘dinner-school’ was a short walk away at the YMCA (‘Yesterday’s Muck Cooked Again’, we were told). I still cannot see igloo-shaped mounds of mashed potato without seeing them hurled by classmates across the room: not a pleasant sight.

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Keywords (not used): 
memories, family, home, childhood, scotland, difficult times

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