Food Nostalgia
Words by Aoife Anderson
My mother Mary is an unbelievable cook. We grew up with good food. Like any busy household, there were a number of classics my mam would always revert back to on busy days. Spaghetti bolognese, beef stew or a big pot of chilli. I remember the first time I realised how lucky I was to be receiving a roast mid week. Her cooking has always been filled with love, curiosity and intuition. Knowing flavour combinations and the points at which to take risks held my attention. Her meals were such a loud explosion of character. They captured her personality wonderfully. This provided such pride when having friends and family around for dinner.
When I was younger, mam worked as a cook in different spots dotted around our town. One that stands out was in our local pub. I remember her explaining to me how she ‘reinvented’ the lunch time hour with hot soups and toasties. It attracted what she referred to as ‘the regulars.’ Her pride was palpable, chuffed with what her food was creating. After school, I would come down to the pub to be greeted by tayto crisps, a bottle of 7up and a snack bar if I was lucky. Although probably not the healthiest of after school snacks, it fills me with a nostalgia I crave now more than ever. Being in that environment grafted a sense that food for mam created a community. Food and community spoke to each other in a very important way. It was a collective effort of bringing people closer together. She held big food gatherings around all events, from charity dinners to huge sprawls at parties and celebrations. It was never an excuse to get out the ‘good china.’ The spreads were never ornate. Filling people with delicious food brought the desire she was craving. A desire that I have developed myself. The attentive tuned in look while a room is silent. Carefully observing to make sure everyone is looked after.
When I was about 12, my mam was diagnosed with a long term illness. Her fatigue grew, taking her out of the workplace. However, her stamina for feeding us amazing food never stopped. The meals were still exciting and full of flavour. Cooking situated itself as a core responsibility, an act that allowed her to hold ownership and possess her innate creative flair. I developed an acute awareness of what it meant to be together and communicating through family dinners. They became more important than ever. This was especially the case for my mam. Some days the dinner table was painfully quiet, other days it was filled with rows and shouting matches. Regardless, we still had to continue to show up for each other. The ritual of dinner time was hard wired by our insatiable appetite.
As I grew and experimented with the set of skills and innate values that a kitchen held for me, I went through the stages of a teenage rebellion. In not quite understanding the vulnerabilities and intricacies of what my mam was going through, I couldn’t quite figure out why she wasn’t sharing herself to the world like she used to. Her relationship to food was always altruistic, an incessant need to bring joy to whatever she was creating to other people. It is only in recent times that I have had the opportunity to truly reflect on this and take stock of our relationship. Her bravery was seen in her ability to share that food. The pride of her cooking was an act of connection.
I always thought my love of food was informed by past boyfriends and terrible school lunches. But it goes way beyond that. My mam spoke with such love in the food she created for us and takes such pride in what it can bring. It represents a constant in an ever changing and ever evolving journey in understanding yourself. I see my mam’s voice in the meals I prepare for other people. It is a shared intimate experience, not one which should be laboured or doubted. In times like these, our physical distance from one another has developed a sense of longing. It is for this exact reason that I am comforted by the familiar. I may not still have my mother’s heart-warming dinners every evening, but I do have a kitchen and an appetite to share her ever growing language of love.
A nostalgic after school meal inspired by my mothers culinary talents:
Mary’s Spaghetti Bolognese made Vegetarian
Serves two decent sized portions
2 tsp Olive Oil
1 Medium Red onion
3 Garlic cloves
1 carrot- finely chopped/grated
1 celery stick- finely chopped
Handful of cherry tomatoes
3 sprigs of fresh basil
1 tsp oregano
200g Quorn Mince
1 tin plum tomatoes
1 small glass of red wine
3 tbsp of Balsamic Vinegar
2 tbsp Tomato Purée
200ml of veg stock
50g parmesan cheese
Bag rocket leaves
160g Spaghetti
Method
Put a large pot onto a medium heat, adding your 2 tbsp of olive oil.
To the pan add your onions, garlic, finely sliced celery, tomatoes, grated carrot and oregano. Sauté for about 10 minutes until the vegetables soften and the onions become translucent.
Increase the heat and add Beef Quorn mince to the pan, stirring through the vegetables for 3-4 minutes.
At this point, add the tomato purée, balsamic vinegar, red wine, tin of plum tomatoes and vegetable stock. Stir in the ingredients and break up your plum tomatoes with the back of your spoon.
bring to boil, then reduce to a simmer on a low heat. Stir your pot occasionally and leave for about 30-40 minutes.
When your bolognese has reduced and has a thick ‘saucy’ consistency, put spaghetti into a boiling pot of salted water. Cook as per the instructions on the packet.
Drain the spaghetti (reserving ¼ cup of the starchy water) and mix through the sauce. Add starchy water reserved from pasta and add to loosen the sauce to your desired consistency.
Serve your dish with rocket on top and shavings of parmesan cheese (or vegetarian alternative like nutritional yeast).
Bon Appetit!
Aoife Anderson is a Youth Arts Practitioner from Kilkenny, based in county Dublin. Aoife has an interdisciplinary set of skills, working within the areas of film, theatre and well-being policy development. From her years experience working with Young Irish Film Makers (YIFM), she has developed and implemented a youth film evaluation tool, which has been workshopped alongside the National Youth Council of Ireland (NYCI). In February 2020, Aoife alongside her colleague Garry McHugh received an Artist Residency in Maynooth University, delivering youth film workshops for the Bsc and Msc in Youth and Community Work students
