Be careful with chilli!
Food memories have a funny way of sneaking up on you.
Sometimes, completely out of nowhere, you remember something that happened years ago and suddenly find yourself laughing like a lunatic. This happened to me the other day and I tried to tell Mr T what had happened, but I was laughing so much that the story made absolutely no sense. I think he thought I was losing it completely this time.
It all started with my grandmother, who took me to a fancy restaurant when I was about 11 years old. We were enjoying our meal, when her potato decided to make a break for freedom. They were a little on the hard side and when she tried to pierce one with her fork, it slipped off the plate, travelled across the table and landed directly on the plate of a diner sitting at the next table.
You might expect a little embarrassment, maybe an apology or at least a surprised gasp. Not my nan. She gave the situation a deadpan look and carried on eating as if nothing had happened while the poor man stared around the restaurant, wondering who was shooting spuds at unsuspecting diners.
I can only imagine what he told his family when he got home. Some people have to worry about flying champagne corks. He had to watch out for airborne potatoes.
Food-related confusion seems to run in the family. When my parents celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary, we all went out for a Chinese meal. Everyone ordered a starter and my youngest brother, Roger, was served first. By the time the last of us received our starters, Roger had polished off his plate and was sitting there with a perfectly serious expression, wondering aloud where his starter was. He was so convincing that he received a second starter which he devoured as well (plus a main course and dessert). My mother eventually clarified matters when we paid the bill.
Then there were the kitchen disasters. The first time my sister attempted to cook for my mother, she prepared a pasta sheet dish but forgot to pre-cook the pasta. She also failed to add enough sauce, leaving us with something resembling edible roofing material.
Even our chickens, who normally approached leftovers with much enthusiasm, refused to touch it. When chickens turn down your cooking, you know you have some work to do!
My own culinary ambitions have not always ended well either. My first attempt at making gnocchi resulted in what could only be described as a fancy potato soup. It was certainly not what I had planned, although I suppose every cook needs to invent a new dish occasionally.
One of my favourite memories involves a buffet I prepared, with a huge pot of chilli con carne as the centrepiece. My dad loves spicy food, while my mum preferred something considerably milder, so I kept the chilli fairly gentle. To keep my dad happy, I put a little dish of sambal oelek (a hot chili sauce) on the table, complete with a cute teaspoon.
Roger arrived, took one look at the little dish and asked dad what it was. Dad, with utter malice in his heart but an innocent look on his face, simply said: ‘Try it’. Roger did, putting a full teaspoon in his mouth. What followed was a performance worthy of its own TV series. There was steam coming from his head, tears streaming down his face and a style of breathing I had never encountered before. It took about a litre of milk before he returned to normal!
Looking back, these are the food memories that make me laugh the most. Not the perfect restaurant meals or the beautifully prepared dishes, but the potatoes that went rogue, the forgotten starters and the meals that even the chickens rejected. Food brings us together, but it also provides endless opportunities for family embarrassment!