MODERN FAMILY
ONE of the many, many things I miss is a big steaming bowl of my mum’s Irish stew.
Very similar to Welsh cawl, it was always the perfect comfort food that she would cook up just when you needed it most.
It is only a small thing, way behind missing her hugs, her laughter, the nightly chats about the latest plot twist in Coronation Street, and her ability to know exactly what to do in a crisis. But it is still something I yearn for.
When I visit now, there are no longer those same smells drifting in from the kitchen, the goodies are shop-bought, and her precious recipe book has been lying neglected in the cupboard beside the redundant mixer for years.
Looking back, not being able to follow recipes and losing interest in baking and cooking were the first signs that something was very wrong. Dementia often starts with just those little signs, and often we only realise years later that that moment was the start of the dark journey.
On a recent trip back to my childhood home, I plucked up the courage to bring the recipe book back with me. Some of the pages are stuck together, bits out of magazines are taped in at the back, the words have faded a little and there is even a floury thumbprint on the page with her famous scone recipe neatly written out line by line.
The book is battered and falling apart, but it is a precious heirloom that I know I will treasure forever. I had been meaning to retrieve it for ages, but hadn’t built up the courage to open those pages of wonderful memories. And I really, really wanted to try the stew recipe.
It has been bittersweet, poring over the pages as the memories come flooding back. There is the recipe for the pineapple delights that my friends used to plead with her to make, there are four, yes, four, different recipes for Christmas puddings, and I can’t wait to recreate the chicken risotto and bacon quiche. But there is no stew recipe, it was all created from memory.
I did read somewhere that the reason why the food cooked by your mum tastes the best is because “it is made with love”. Some researchers even did an experiment proving the point, making two identical Christmas dinners. While one group ate in a nicely decorated room and were told their meal had been prepared by chefs using familyfavourite recipes, the second dined in a room with no festive decorations and were made to feel as if little effort had gone into their food. No surprises that the first group believed their meal tasted significantly better than the second group did.
This week, for Dementia Action Week, policy-makers have been highlighting the fact that 65% of those living with dementia are women, and they want policy-makers to make it a key issue for women’s health going forward. It is an important message and one that needs to be highlighted. It can never take those precious memories away, but dementia does take so much away from the whole family.