What granny used to cook
Stuff looks at what our grandparents cooked, as they lived the ‘‘good life’’.
Microwaves weren’t invented yet, cakes didn’t come in a box, everyone had their own garden and meat was a luxury. The idea of ‘‘meat and three vegetables’’ rings true when it comes to what older generations ate, but it was so much more than that.
The diets of those who grew up in post-war New Zealand were vastly different to what they are now, and they’ve seen plenty change in the kitchen.
For some, there wasn’t hot water pouring from the tap and for others, killing their own meat was just part of the preparation for dinner. Wastage was never really an option either.
Joyce Gardner, of
Christchurch, has a long history of making a mean roast – her roast potatoes are something to behold – and does just about everything from scratch.
Gardner, 93, first moved to New Zealand from the United Kingdom in 1953, eventually putting down roots in Christchurch in 1961, but she brought some family traditions with her.
‘‘I was brought up in a family that had a very, very big garden,’’ Gardner says.
When she and her husband purchased a home in Lyttelton, they began gardening and fresh vegetables became staples. Tomatoes, potatoes and carrots were just the tip of the iceberg, and she continues to grow many of her own vegetables.
At one point, while she was working parttime and her husband was working nights, she whipped up casseroles and meat pies. She recites the recipes as if she were cooking as she spoke.
‘‘I used to buy skirt steak, because when you put skirt steak in and cook it, it kind of flakes a bit. It makes gorgeous gravy,’’ she says.
The Sunday roast was always beef bolar, cooked atop chopped celery, onions, carrots and parsnips, as well as a few Oxo cubes.
Once cooked, she would take out the beef and make the gravy: ‘‘All the juices go into the vegetables, [it] helps to make the gravy and makes for nice eating’’.
Grab the potato masher and mash the vegetables, heat and add some flour if it needs encouragement to thicken.
Gravy is a serious art and it’s something Gardner has surely perfected; roast potatoes too, parboiled, roughed up with some salt and flour and put in a roasting tray with hot oil.
‘‘It’s a jolly good meal, I could have it now,’’ Gardner says, with a chuckle.
Gardner and her husband often spent their holidays travelling through the South Island, mainly to Lake Hawea, where they would catch salmon. What she did to make the salmon last over the following months would likely be considered a bit odd by modern standards.
‘‘They were beautiful, I used to bottle them.’’
It’s just like canning fish, except it’s local salmon or trout being pulled from the cupboard to make a good meal.
‘‘For a cooked dish, that was easy: flake them up and put some of the juice in (that was in the bottle) and then put some mashed potato on the top.’’
Cheese on top of that, or toasted bread crumbs, and dinner was sorted with some fresh vegetables, she says.
Gardner still cooks for herself, grows plenty of her own vegetables and passes on her knowledge of cooking — it’s something she’s known for.
‘‘My taxi drivers are always asking what to do,’’ Gardner says.
Nancy Bowers had a similar vegetable garden, however she and her husband were almost entirely self-sustaining thanks to farming. First they lived on a farm then-husband George Heaton was allocated following World War II, near Morrinsville, before moving to another farm just outside of Waihi.
It was not the easiest life, however the seven-strong family always ate well and there was always meat on the table, Bowers says.
‘‘At that time I was a bit of a nervous wreck. I wasn’t used to farming, but it was a good life.’’
Meals were often dictated by what was going on at the farm, and meals being carted out behind the tractor were common place.
Cheese scones daubed with butter and tea were the go-to, as were sandwiches, during bailing season.
But the 94-year-old’s eyes light up when she speaks of offal: tripe and onions, steak and kidney and liver and onions. She’s repetitive at the best of times, but she speaks with absolute clarity when she regales an audience with offal recipes and stories.
Bowers hasn’t cooked for a while, now living in a rest home, but recalls her recipes easily and is fond of all the bits of the animal people no longer eat much of.
Offal was always a treat, eaten the morning after her husband slaughtered a pig or lamb. That meant the pluck – heart, liver and lungs – and other offal would be ready for the next morning.
‘‘Lambs fry, particularly with bacon. Heart, I’m very fond of heart – in preference to liver, actually.’’
It was fried in the pan, with a bit of bacon, sliced thinly. The crispy bits would make a seriously good gravy too.
It’s all simple fare, with nothing trying to mask the flavours of the offal itself, and it would always have onions, a love of hers.
‘‘Onions too, of course. Ooh, I like tripe and onions,’’ she swoons.
It’s hard to get Bowers off the subject of tripe, she’s been cooking and eating the stuff with her family for decades and it’s a favourite for some of her children.
Sweet, sweated onions, tender – not tough – tripe and a white sauce was standard.
Elaine Mcgowan, 75, grew up in Kaikohe surrounded by farms and never wanted for anything foodwise.
But food came from the green grocer, the butcher and the dairy, she says.
‘‘When we were kids, I had a fairly privileged background, we never wanted for anything, but it was basic.’’
Meat and three vegetables is what she means.
‘‘We had the chops, the roast dinners, all the typical Kiwi recipes. It wasn’t until recent years all the foreign foods were introduced.
‘‘It was all very plain, very basic food for me.’’
‘‘We had the chops, the roast dinners, all the typical Kiwi recipes. It wasn’t until recent years all the foreign foods were introduced. ‘‘It was all very plain, very basic food for me.’’ Elaine Mcgowan