Always take with a pinch of salt
You may not have noticed that Tui Flower died a couple of weeks ago, aged 91. The cooking great reportedly stipulated that nothing about her death appear in the media until after her funeral. Thus, as she left her life she continued to exemplify values by which she lived it — a dislike of fuss, a desire not to draw attention to yourself, and a pragmatic approach to the givens of existence.
Such qualities are all too rare in the early 21st century.
I was lucky enough to meet Flower a couple of times. On one occasion, she told me a story about her grandmother that is one of those anecdotes you tuck away because you know it’s significant even if you’re not quite sure why at the time.
Baking powder is an item that will be found in most kitchens, even those belonging to people whose cooking skills are stretched by the demands of making toast.
If you have baking powder in the cupboard you can always tell yourself that you could make some really excellent scones if you wanted to.
Baking powder, which came into mass production around 1900, is made of baking soda and cream of tartar, both of which can still be bought individually.
Flower’s story was about her grandmother, who once told her she thought her daughter, Flower’s mother, was lazy because she used bought baking powder instead of making her own.
Needless to say, Flower was with her mother on that one.
Flower was born in 1925, so it’s fair to assume her grandmother was born in the last half of the 19th century, when New Zealand was still a colonial society.
She was thus a direct connection with that period and its ways of doing things. Although Flower was a conservative cook — food was to enjoy and share and not angst over — by today’s standards, it’s clear that by her grandmother’s yardsticks she was a veritable culinary Kate Sheppard.
The story has several useful lessons. It reminds us the past is closer than we think and continues to influence day-to-day life in unobtrusive ways.
More than that, it demonstrates how new technology — of which the invention of baking powder was an example — quickly becomes standard and those who cling to past doctrines as though they are commandments can easily be left behind.
And if nothing else, in an age of paleo pretension and pescovegetarianism the story puts in perspective how seriously to take dogma about How Things Must Be Done: with a pinch of salt, that’s how.
It’s a disappointing world. Here’s Jacinda Ardern on that quickly forgotten fuss about Australia’s deputy PM being one of ours and their Government’s less than positive reaction: “I value our relationship with the Australian Government highly. I won’t let disappointing and false claims stand in the way of that relationship.”
“I am very disappointed in China,” said Donald Trump over a trade fuss with that country.
And when the President broke ranks over the Paris accord, what was Bill English’s response? He was “very disappointed”.
Peter Dunne stepping down? He was “naturally very disappointed”.
Some people even warn us when there’s a possibility they will be disappointed, so we can get the hugs ready: “I fear, though, despite all this economic success, I’ll be disappointed this afternoon,” said Mike Hosking on Budget day.
The language of feelings seems to have taken over public conversation around the period we all began to have me time and get mindful.
Something matters not because it’s important or has an effect in the world, but because the speaker’s feelings have been hurt.
So, dear would-be prime ministers and world leaders and opinion shapers, please stop telling me how you feel.
I don’t care how you feel; I care how you do your job.
By her grandmother’s yardsticks Tui Flower was a veritable culinary Kate Sheppard.