Reflections in, on and round about…with a lot of cooking on the side
In December 1999, I spent my last Christmas with my father. Three days earlier, we'd bade my mother a final farewell. As I've probably said before, her death was a shock. Six weeks prior, she'd had surgery. By all accounts, it was successful although the procedure meant a protracted stay in hospital. Cleared of nasties, … Continue reading Not killing mother
Foreword Health is a personal matter until it’s a matter of public health. Like when the world is in the grips of a pandemic as it is now. I would not normally (I don’t think) share the sordid details of my illnesses. I qualify that because I suffer, happily, from rude health. The rationale for … Continue reading I changed my mind. I got the jab
I only ever knew one grandparent. It's a partly a function of the era in which I grew up and partly because we literally lived continents apart. John and Mary Cameron, late 1950s or early 1960s These are my Scottish grandparents. My father's father, John Cameron, died before I was born. How long before? I … Continue reading Grandparents, guides and mentors
There were certain things about Sunday Suppers that were always a juggle: the kitchen arrangements, for starters. It's an open plan space and in large part occupied by the stove and other appliances. Working surfaces are limited, so I have to be super organised. To begin with, there was a lot of juggling which, with … Continue reading Jambalaya Juggle
Words fascinate me and I confess to choosing to eat something - just because its name appeals to me. I live in a country with eleven official languages - plus dialects. Also, in South Africa, are peoples of Bushman descent whose languages are ancient and have either been lost, or are in danger of being … Continue reading A stew is as stew – or is it?
It's a funny old world we live in. As I write, we are in day 501 of South Africa's National State of Emergency (aka lockdown), and thanks to the vagaries of the Interweb and erstwhile hosts, this is the second iteration of a post with this recipe. The original post was three years ago. How … Continue reading It’s no bull…
What's in a name? You may well ask. My parents rarely, if ever actually called me "Fiona", even though it was the name they chose for me. My father only ever used my given name if he was getting serious about something. For years I loathed it. Why? Thank you for asking. But first: They … Continue reading What’s in a name?
Other than beer, there were three things that my Dad cooked. One was stovies, another soda scones and the third, tattie scones. My mother claimed she couldn't bake anything, let alone scones. Realistically though, neither of these scones were never baked - baking happens in the oven, right? Rather, they are cooked on a girdle … Continue reading Dad’s Famous Tattie Scones
I have been blogging since February 2014. That's more than seven years, I now realise. It's been an interesting journey that began, just focusing on food and recipes. Because of a chance remark on Facebook. It was not without trepidation that I registered on WordPress; it was at least a week, if not more, before … Continue reading Embracing Silver, Gold and Onyx
Foreword This post, in its original iteration appeared in 2018. On another platform. I have, for a number of reasons, been trying to systematically restore "missing" bits. It's a mixed blessing: some I choose not to restore. Others, like this, make me realise how much our lives have changed in the last year and now, … Continue reading Heritage food – my take