My mother’s cooking has always played a central part in our family’s life. I bet you can say the same of your mother’s cooking too. Even if they are not the best or greatest cooks, their kitchen exploits are always impactful. Living abroad and going home to eat was one of the highlights of a trip to Guyana to me. Mommy always wanted to know what I wanted to have for my first meal back home, and each morning, she’d ask what to cook that day for me. It’s been over 3 years now since I have last tasted food cooked by my mother and I probably never will again. Sure, I will taste the influence but not food prepared and cooked by her directly, with her own hands.
I shared with you back in 2016 how arthritis had changed my mother’s hands and restricted the various tasks associated with cooking. Well, since then, life has changed even more – for mom and the family. A stroke has left her with not only with further weakened hands, but also a weakened body. As Mother’s Day approaches, I cannot help but mourn for my mother’s food that I would never taste again – her Cook-up Rice, cooked perfectly with each grain discernable and glistening with the reduced coconut milk in which it has been cooked. The Fried Rice that she would insist that she measures the water to rice ratio herself and steam, knowing exactly the volume of low heat to give to the covered pot. The cooled rice then tossed with a deft spicing combination of ginger, garlic, hot peppers, five-spice powder and soy sauce; thinly sliced bora and finely diced carrots, the only other additions.
Mommy’s homemade Mauby, set and brewed daily with a heady froth until properly ripened, is unrivaled. An ice-cold glass of that Mauby accompanied by her soft Coconut Buns peppered with raisins is the stuff of mine and many others childhood and adulthood. These days, I ask many questions so that I can try to replicate her food, I take instructions and at times I fight the impulse to put my twist and stamp on things. It is a work in progress. I find that it is easier for me to take directions and do the things she wants done in a precise manner if I am not invested in eating or drinking it. For example, there is a specific way in which my mother likes “fried” baigan (eggplant/boulanger) which I abhor, but I make it for her. Start with frying thinly sliced onions, crushed cloves of garlic and a couple of crushed maiwiri peppers, when softened and fragrant, add thinly sliced potatoes, season with salt and pepper to taste, cover and cook on low heat until half cooked. Remove the lid from the pan, turn up the heat and add thick slices of baigan, a sprinkle of salt and black pepper along with slices of tomatoes; cover the pan and let cook until the baigan is cooked through and the tomatoes softened. Give 2 – 3 turns to mix everything, taste for seasoning, adjust if necessary and shut off the heat.
These days when I cook for my mother, I still seek her approval. Sometimes she tends to head me off at the pass by stating how she likes certain things so that I make them just the way she prefers. For example, when I said I was going to make Sada roti, she promptly declared that she likes her Sada roti very thick; when I made bakes, she ate them but explained that she prefers them thicker, meatier on the inside. Over the Easter weekend, I was anxious about making Cross Buns. I had tested and retested various combinations to come up with a bun that had the texture and flavour that I preferred. It was definitely not my mother’s Cross Buns recipe. I baked several batches to share with friends too. Before heading out for Holy Thursday mass I had left 2 buns with Cheese for mom to have for dinner. Now here is what you need to know about my mother and giving approval/compliments about food and drink: You never need to ask for it, it is freely and sincerely given if it meets with her approval. I got home and saw that both Cross Buns were eaten. I asked about her well-being and waited to hear what the verdict was on the Cross Buns. Nothing. I even commented that it was good that she was able to eat both Cross Buns. Nothing. And then I couldn’t bear it anymore and asked: “Mommy, what did you think of the Cross Buns?” She replied, “Good. It was good.”
While I may not have hit the spot with the Cross Buns, she loves my Cheddar-scallion biscuits and the buttery version when I make them into scones. You take your wins where you can.
Happy Mother’s Day!
Cynthia
cynthia@tasteslikehome.org
