Remembering my grandmother through food
As I get older, I recall less and less of my time as a child, but I could never forget the food my grandmother churned out. My grandmother loved me through her food, it was her love language. She would cook absolutely anything I wanted and every day we would bake something new that we had seen in one of her cookbooks. My grandmother was the definition of a feeder, you couldn’t stand in her house for more than 5 minutes without being offered cups of tea, biscuits, sandwiches and eventually it would escalate into a full spread.
My grandmother died unexpectedly when I was 19 & my one regret is that I didn’t start Rhannu sooner so she could have seen it grow as I know how much she would have loved it. I never realised how precious those afternoons spent in her kitchen with her were. I would give anything to spend one more day in her kitchen making crumble with her.
One of my favourite memories is of her blackberry & apple crumble pie, I can remember the giddy excitement when I knew she was going to make it. My grandmother would send me and my Grandad Ron down Garngoch Common (which was only 2 minutes away from their house) to pick blackberries. We would come back with buckets and buckets full of those wonderful tangy berries and the rest of the day would be spent washing them, then stewing them in a huge saucepan with apples from the garden and brown sugar. She would stew it on a low heat for hours until it was jammy and super sweet. The moment it went into the oven I was counting down every minute until it was ready, which felt like a lifetime! I used to sit on the floor and watch the blackberry filling bubble away at the sides of the dish. Once it came out the oven my mind would start racing with the biggest dilemma of all, custard or ice cream. This dilemma would often result in calling it quits and having both. I don’t make her blackberry crumble pie often, but when I do I sit on the floor and watch it like I used to when I was a kid. I swear sometimes she’s sitting next to me, always with her pinny on.
I never realised how lucky I was to have a family that embraced me being in the kitchen from a young age, who allowed me to make mistakes (let’s not mention the time I wrapped my hair around an electric handheld whisk!). I think that how your parents/family approach food with you in your childhood can define the rest of your life, there’s no way I’d have such an infatuation with food like I do now if it wasn’t for my granny and my mum. Whenever I miss my granny (which is almost every day) I make the foods she used to make and it can take me back to being with her, it’s pretty magical.
I knew that I wanted a section of this to be all about my grandmother. She was the biggest influence of my cooking alongside my mum. The next section of the blog will be full of vegan versions of her recipes that I’ve adapted so I can still remember her through what’s on my plate.
I hope you love these recipes just as much as I do.
To my wonderful Granny, Christine, I miss you and your kitchen every single day. I know that you would love to see my passion for cooking & baking now that it’s a lot more present than it was when you were here. Maybe its because you were so good at it I never needed to cook for myself! Since I have become so engrossed in food & cooking your absence is more present than ever. I hope you can hear me and mum when we talk about you and always end up crying of laughter when we remember how wicked you were. My bbq sauce will never be as good as yours, Niamh x
