Food & Nostalgia: Dishes my father liked

I've always loved the date September 1st.
After January 1st it's the best time for new beginnings. Symbolising the end of the summer and starting a new term. It's a positive, rejuvenating date...well it was until six years ago when it became the day my ubba (father) would depart this world. 
Every year I write about him on this date because it's a chance for me to reflect on his life and everything he taught me. This year's theme is food.
The foods that fill me with nostalgia and remind me of him. 

Malted Milk Biscuits
Every Bangladeshi father has a thing for biscuits. Whenever mine visited Bangladesh he'd carry empty tupperware in his suitcase, which he'd bring back to the UK, filled with traditional biscuits. They were sold loose by weight, so he'd take the packaging from home, as you needed something to put them in. 
But when the stash was finished he'd have to resort to British biccies. Scottish shortbread was an early favourite as were Sports biscuits but Malted Milks were the reigning champion. He clearly had good taste because they really are the ultimate dunking biscuit. I don't eat them often but I'm going to buy a pack today.

Milk and Rice
This is something I remember clearly during my childhood. After we'd finished our evening meal of curry and rice, cooked by my mother, sometimes she'd make him a special dessert (just for him), which consisted of leftover rice cooked in warm milk. It was like a really basic rice pudding. It never sounded or looked very appetising to me especially as when she made proper rice pudding it was delicious, but this strange dessert was something he liked. Maybe it was his nostalgic food. He was certainly very happy when he ate it.

Crunchy Nut Cornflakes
Ubba's breakfast consisted of egg on toast with honey and a bowl of Crunchy Nut Cornflakes, mixed with muesli, then heated in the microwave with milk (the third milky dish that appears on this list!). He had a sweet tooth and anything honey flavoured was welcomed.

LucozadeNot strictly food, but other than drinking 1/2 cups of tea throughout the day and the occasional Indian Tonic water (which was a much revered drink in our household), Lucozade was ubba's favourite tipple, he always had a bottle in the house. 

I have other fond foodie memories too like him buying monkey nuts when we were kids and treats from Greggs bakery like apple turnovers, London cheesecakes (pictured), and swiss buns or ring doughnuts. We didn't have a lot of money but he always made sure we had something yummy to eat after school.

After my mother died he lost his appetite. I missed her cooking so much, but it was worse for ubba. He had been living on her home cooked Bangladeshi food for over 30 years so to suddenly have that taken from him - it's something he never spoke about, or I ever asked him about; it's only now that I think about the emotional and physical effects that would have had on him, and on anyone in a similar situation.

One day he got really upset and angry with me because I bought some supermarket samosas. At the time I thought he was being mean, but maybe it's because he just missed my mother's?

In losing his appetite ubba moved away from Bangladeshi food and started eating Western food, but I'll never forget the time (shortly after my mum passed away) that I made him veggie burgers for dinner. That night he had the worst stomach pains of his life, probably because after years of home cooking his body wasn't used to processed food. 

I spent a lot of time with him when I first moved back home after university and we always ate together - it was a bond we shared. Eating together is so much better than eating alone.

I didn't anticipate it, but this has been the most difficult piece to write about him. In previous years (2014, 2013, 2012, 2011, 2010) it's felt more joyful recalling his memory, but food, I've just discovered is very personal and nostalgic, making this much more of an emotional experience. 

I'm not one for dragging out long cathartic blog posts, I'd rather take some time out now and think about him in my prayers than type away on my laptop, so I'll leave it at this. 

Looking forward to dunking a Malted Milk biscuit into my tea for elevensees this morning, feel free to join me! 

The Nostalgia of Vegetables

A market stall in Sri Lanka

I used to host a radio show called 'Lipstick with Veg'. My motto was 'Eat More Veg!'. Not because I was trying to convert anyone into vegetarianism...I just genuinely love vegetables. At any give time of day I could eat a plate of veg. A bowl of boiled peas is my favourite. Tonight I was looking for crafting inspiration - but flicking through photos taken over the last few years I was surprised to discover that I have lot of images of fruit & veg. I have no idea why I've taken any of them, other than the colours and textures are beautiful. But rather than inspiring me to 'make' I found myself drifting off into memories. Here's what I recalled....

1.Jackfruit

Coming home after school and sucking on the fizzy yellow sacks that can be found inside jackfruits. My sisters and I weren't allowed to throw the seeds away, they are like huge brown nuts, that my mum added to curries.

2. Mango

These days the only mangos I eat are in the form of lassi or pre-chopped cubes in supermarket fruit salads. Deep down I know I am not giving mangos the justice they deserve. My mum used to peel the skin off and then squeeze all the flesh into a bowl. If I was lucky she'd let me suck on the seed before she split the mango pulp into bowls -  which she'd then sprinkle with deep fried crispy rice for dessert. I would give anything to have that incredible taste in my mouth again. But sadly it will never happen as she had a special way of making the aforementioned crispy rice which no one else has ever mastered, despite my sisters and mums friends trying.

3.Sweet potatoes

I've never known a sweet potato not to taste delicious, but the best ones I've ever had are when my parents used to wrap them in foil and pop them in the bonfire. Inside would be hot,sweet, creamy bliss.

4. Marrows

We grew up eating marrow with everything. Marrow and fish, marrow and prawns, marrow as a side and marrow as a main. But these days I never buy them because courgettes are so much more easier to prepare.

5. Ginger (ok....not  veg, a spice, but I liked this photo!)

My mum only ever cooked with six spices - ginger, garlic, coriander, chilli, tumeric and cumin. Where as I have a ridiculous array of jars - garam masala, curry powder, paprika....she kept things simple but amazingly still full of flavour.

6. Bananas

Bananas remind me of my dad as he used have one chopped up with a bowl of Crunchy Nut Cornflakes every day for breakfast and he'd give us strict instructions to only buy short, fat ones as they taste better.

7. Okra

Okra is beautiful. A miracle of nature. Just like mushrooms they aren't supposed to be washed. Ashamedly I buy the frozen variety - but at the same time it's amazing to think it's possible to do that - as when I was growing up, frozen okra was completely unheard of!

8. Ramutan/Lyhees

I photographed these Rambutans in Malaysia last year - they actually represent lychees. Possibly the most fun fruit there is to eat. We only seemed to have them on special occasions as they were so expensive. Everyone in the family (there were 6 of us) would get  two each to savour.

9. Beans

Beans. I don't know what variety these are but they remind me of the humble broad bean - the veg I ate more than anything else when I was younger. They grew in abundance at my parent's allotment and every weekend my sisters and I would be forced to sit indoors shelling them into bowls while the rest of the neighbourhood kids were outside playing. (I'm not even exaggerating here!) Shelling broadbeans was a regular family activity. None of us liked eating them, they were so bland. Yet today I regard broadbeans as a delicacy. They are my bean of choice.

10.Luw

Finally the luw. A type of gourd, similar to a marrow which again we ate regularly because they grew so well - in the back garden and allotment - even though the seeds had been sent over from Bangladesh! My dad could get them to grow to over a metre in length and I used to wish he'd get photographed for the local newspaper with one, but he never did.

I don't know if vegetables have this many personal attachments with anyone else. But thinking about them tonight has been theraputic.