The English are infamous for their simple tastes, perhaps over-boiled vegetables, their fatty meats like pork and beef, and the strong beers to wash it down. While this is a caricature, and an insulting one to many, there are a good many food traditions (with heavily British influence) that my family has clung to. My mom, who never felt at home in the kitchen, pined for our feedback—assured that none meant complete failure—sometimes there was no possible feedback that could hush this internal doubt. This is British indeed, maybe a way that women in my family can tend to feel about their meals. The dinner table, or sometimes the couch and tele for us, fostered a comfortability with one another.
I preferred bread without butter growing up. Plain was best. My grandfather still loves to overcook his vegetables. I didn’t ask to like Marmite, nor did I realize how icky and sticky others thought of the spread. Anything on toast would do—cheese, tomatoes, beans, bacon, mushrooms, eggs—you name it! Ribena, black currant juice concentrate. Yum. We would prepare the basics for holidays: a roast, Yorkshire puddings, sprouts, mashed potatoes, gravy all over. This meal still seems idyllic to me, reminiscent of good times. For me, oatcakes and cheese means family love. Oh and tea. Can’t forget tea.
Lissy.
The Sundet family’s food traditions are
swept up from all over the culinary map and given special life in our house. My
mom’s side of the family is a New England, dessert pie kind of family. We spend
Thanksgivings together, with plates of green beans, sweet potatoes, and warm
rolls. My dad’s side, however, has gathered some ethnic recipes – streak
broiled in a kind of soy sauce marinade, rice and beans topped with peanuts - and these are the well- loved meals for gatherings on that side of the family.
