ROdown Blog
Flour and Brimstone
Summer was slow and languid in its approach to summer. December was spent restlessly watching clock faces in classrooms, feet tapping, underarms sticky with anticipation, until we were released, leaving a paper trail in our wake.
The panicked last minute Christmas shopping at the supermarket and the realisation that we had no wrapping paper on Christmas Eve were all part of our tradition. But this time, it was different. This time, everything had changed.
My grandmother died in a nursing home last month, suffering from dementia and loneliness. In the week before her death, I watched her body shrivel up like a leaf. She had been trapped for five years, constantly yearning for her home in the mountains with her family where they were unable to take care of her.
She left behind her a fistful of memories, a tin of jewellery to be distributed among the girls in our family and a gaping hole in all of us. So we'll drag our feet in our trek into the mountains this year, unwilling to face the hard reality that the person who had always been there to hold us all together wouldn’t be waiting with a plateful of scones at the ready, or a hand which would always cling to you with iron-like grip.
We'll hug and kiss, murmur our Merry Christmases and sit in silence which was only disturbed by an uncle's snores from the corner, and our eyes will constantly skim over the place at the table where Nor Nor would have sat. But when Patty begins to cook the roast beef and stuff the turkey, the herbs and smells will waft about the house.
I'll be so reminded of Nor Nor, and how she tirelessly supplied us with a seemingly never-ending supply of food. For the main course, about three types of meat, spiced with rosemary and a secret stuffing, with potato salad and various other dishes. And even though we will have completely gorged ourselves on the mouth-watering meat that had been reared in the paddock not a kilometre away, we always seemed to find space for desert.
A sumptuous fruitcake, topped with brandy and lit on fire, much to the joy of my pyromaniac cousins. The dark richness balanced with the creaminess of the recipe Nor Nor made herself: mango ice cream. Then, completely sated, we will all take our places on lounges, beds and chairs to sleep in the stickiness of the hot summer day.
It will be through this that our memories of Nor Nor will emerge, and we'll be able to talk of her freely, and with love. To me, food the best way to relive my memories, and it brings family together. My mum, who felt the loss of her mother the hardest, believes in the healing power of food.
So as I leave you with a recipe that strongly reminds me of the woman I miss, I’ll pose this question: what dishes remind you of family or friends you’ve lost? I’d for love you guys to post the recipes; I’m interested to hear what they are!
Also, make sure you check out this fact sheet on ways you can deal with grief during Christmas: http://au.reachout.com/find/articles/managing-grief-at-christmas. It's got some great tips on how to cope with your loss during the holiday period.
Mango Ice cream
- 1.5L vanilla ice cream
- 60 grams raw macadamia nuts
- 2 or 3 ripe mangoes 2 teaspoons lemon juice ½ cup sugar
- 2/3 cup water 300ml carton cream pinch salt
- 2 kiwi fruit
1. Place macadamia nuts on oven tray, bake in moderate oven for 5 min or until light golden brown. Remove from oven, cool, chop roughly.
2. Place icecream in large bowl, beat with a wooden spoon until just softened, fold in chopped macadamia nuts. Spoon ice cream into a 6 cup mould, press around base and sides of mould, leaving a hollow in the centre; freeze until firm.
3. Peel mangoes, remove fruit from stone, chop roughly, place in blender blend until pureed. Measure 2 cups of mango puree, this is all that is required in this recipe.
4. Place sugar and water in small saucepan, stir over gentle hear until sugar is dissolved. Bring to boil, boil uncovered 10 minutes; allow to cool.
5. Combine mango puree, lemon juice and sugar syrup, pour into a shallow try, freeze approximately 1 hour or until starting to harden around the edges. Beat cream and salt until soft peaks form, add to mango mixture, mix well.
6. Return ice cream to freezer, freeze until almost firm. Decorate with kiwi fruit and passionfruit sauce.
Passionfruit Sauce:
- 6 passionfruit
- 2 tablespoons of orange juice
- 2 tablespoons of sugar
- 2 tablespoons of grand manier.
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2 Comments
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rubyjwb
over 1 year ago
Reply ReportHey, thanks for commenting.
I completely understand about your Great Gran. It's so hard for the whole family to move on from a loss like yours has, but just remember you don't have to be the one to shoulder the pain. Being the eldest child myself, I understand the expectation of maturity and responsibility, but don't feel as if you have to be the one to hold everything together when you're faced with such grief; mourn for your gran if you need to. She sounds like she was really important to you.
And thanks so much for your kind words. I take comfort in my memories and family and its something that helps me remember her with a smile instead of tears.
DevilishAmbi
over 1 year ago
Reply ReportThis will be my first christmas without my Great Nan who passed away last month, my family is not dealing with it too well. Being the oldest out of 5 kids I feel like I'm the one holding it all together. I understand the pain in these sort of situations, but sometimes just wish my friends understood what's going on in my life. Usually it's all open but come christmas all my friends and family just fall apart. It's hard to deal with but I know in the end it'll work out okay.
Your Grandmother's sprit will live on in your memory forever, she'll watch over you from the high heavens and I know you'll get through it :) I'm sure you're a tough cookie. Just remember, There's an up to every down and a smile behind every frown.