Of old recipes and a new kitchen…

I’m in my new house. I reread the earlier post where I first wrote about a possible new house and its great kitchen: in fact, how for me, the kitchen was the deal maker.. and now I have cooked in here for just over a week already. In moments it still feels almost fantastical: but here I am in the lounge, my mac on my lap, and when I glance up and to my right I can see a corner of my kitchen from here.

The move went smoothly: the only rather upsetting event was that I lost a diamond out of my engagement ring, which upon reflection I chose to reframe as wonderfully symbolic of making a home here, putting my roots down, the diamond going back into the earth where it belongs: a secret shining blessing.

The unpacking brought memories and some tears: I found my mom’s old recipe book again. I sat there paging through it, taking my time, every now and then reading out loud to my beloved a familiar recipe, making out-loud mental notes of  recipes I want to try out: my grandmother’s date loaf for one, and I found the recipe for the mustard sauce made with Colmans and eggs and sugar and vinegar, which was a staple at Christmas dinners with roast leg of pork which my other grandmother loved cooking.

My mother’s handwriting made me cry: and then amongst the clippings from many magazines and Pitman shorthand scribbles from radio recipes no doubt, I also found a slip of paper with my father’s rather fierce capitals-only writing with lists and lists of calculations: I remember when he still used to smoke, how boxes of 30′s Rothmans were turned over for his scribbles..

So I continue to unpack, into a new house and into a new life… I imagine lots of memories to be made and told and written about: starting with a dinner with exes next Saturday: there must be a blogpost in that!!