I am such a heroine. I finally sorted through the boxes in our garage, Yes those same boxes that have remained unopened since our last move – in 2002!
Nine boxes of books are being collected by Lifeline today. I don’t know what possessed me when I was buying some of those books. I found a Jewish cookbook that I had bought through some crazy book club when I was about fourteen.
No, I am not Jewish, and at fourteen I could not cook either. I don’t know where I thought I might have purchased half the ingredients in a small rural town in the 1970s either. This was a time when eating grilled pineapple with our steak was considered exotic!
I remember once, my Dad arrived home with a carton of small tins of mushrooms in butter sauce that had fallen off the back of a truck (really it had fallen off the back of a truck! Dad owned a trucking company and it had been damaged in transport.) Once we got over the excitement of Dad bringing home a box with something inside it, we all just stood there looking at the cans. No one, least of all Mum, knew what to do with them. Foreign. I think in the end someone must have told Dad to put the sauce over his steak and he manfully ate his way through the entire supply. The rest of us ran screaming from something so weird!
So, what I was going to do with a Jewish cookbook, I have no idea. It was probably during my Simon and Garfunkel period when I was positive one or other, or both of them, would arrive on my doorstep at any moment and whisk me away to a life of sex and roll and roll (well, okay, folk rock!)
Just as well I didn’t know that Cat Stevens was Muslim, heavens knows what foods I would have been searching for then!