I remember one year recently, as we approached Christmas, it was time to get the ladies in the family together to decide who was to bring what on the big day. This is something done by my family for as long as I can remember. We all bring the same things, it doesn't really change that much, but getting together, having a cup of tea, sorting it all out is one of my favourite things.
Growing up, Christmas was always the same. The families would gather at Burrum Heads and the ladies would get the housework and washing done after breakfast. God knows what the menfolk did. Probably headed out in the boats fishing. Aunty Al had a wringer washing machine that I thought was AWESOME. I was allowed to feed the socks through. Kids have no fun these days with automatics. Anyway, I remember Mum would remind me later on that Nan would always say, "We'll get our work done and sit down to a good cup of tea." It would be accompanied by the fruit cakes. Always a light one and a dark one. As we've grown up, we all make our own, and each Christmas day, we'd all bring a sample and we'd all praise each other on the quality of the cake offered. The baker's usually would usually suggest, that "It's a dud this year, it's too dry/moist/ nearly a plum duff - aka plum pudding texture- But these suggestions would be swept aside, reassuring the cook of yet another good cake this year.
A cup of hot tea, (on a bloody hot muggy Christmas day) was always welcomed, Nan believing it cooled you down. I think we sweated that much it naturally cooled us, I think Nan thought a good cup of tea would fix most things. I remember sitting at her kitchen table in Biggenden and she'd pour my sister and I a cup, tip some in the saucer so it would cool, and and we'd sip ever so lady like (probably more like slurp and slop) and we'd learn to enjoy our cups of tea.
So back to the start of my story, this one particular year, I wanted to make our new daughter in law feel part of the family and asked if she wanted to join in the meeting of the womenfolk and she thought it was lovely, but had never heard the term womenfolk. So clearly, I'm old and old fashioned and probably it was a whopper of an indicator that my family roots are firmly from the country. For example, Mum has an old CWA cook book, I have a newer flash version of the CWA cook book. The only scones I can make that aren't useful for knocking out the neighbour's barking dog, are the CWA premix scone mix. And I'm pretty sure that my aunt was a baking judge for the local show. Let's face it, we're country and we like to cook.
We all have recipes that are treasured and have been handed down. A recipe that my daughter was given just recently, had the title "Grandy's Anzac Biscuits" and she loved how she knew which grandmother it came from.
I remember as a girl learning to cook, I loved looking through my mums recipe book. It was started with a proper ink pen. Beautifully handwritten from her days in school. Over the years it was added to, stained and pages worn. But it was my favourite cookbook to look at. I started my own when I was first married. It has Aunty Al's wedding fruit cake recipe, Mrs Fanning's Light Fruit Cake, Judy's Trifle, Mums Anzac Biscuits, and so on. Quantities and measurements are either in cups, tablespoons, mls, grams pounds and ounces. Over the years it too has become very stained, (so much so that I probably am guessing the quantities - which could explain why my last two zucchini slices taste like it needed another 20 mins in the oven). Both my kids have left home and both have taken various recipes. What surprised me when I decided to start my book again due to the age and tattiness of the old one, was my daughters reaction and request to not throw the old one out. It seems that like my mum's old recipe book, mine holds a similar fondness for her.
So today when I was poking around in some of my Mum's recipes, this whole love of our "womenfolk" family traditions, was brought full circle in my delight in finding a recipe in my late Nana's handwriting, one in my Aunt's handwriting (duly entitled Date Loaf Aunty Myrt) and one in my Mum's handwriting. I immediately was surrounded by the strength and love of the women of my family. They've all lived their lives through trials and tribulations, we've lived apart and together. The thread that holds us together, is the love in these handwritten recipes, and our funny, old fashioned traditions. I look forward to the next generations recipe books. I hope they keep the handwritten ones going.
