I just opened a couple of dozen oysters, which is one of our frequent Sunday evening treats when we’re in France (they’re too darn expensive in UK!) and, while I was doing so, I was smiling to myself about some fond memories of my childhood and, in particular, my mother. Before going into the kitchen to open the oysters, I had added a menu to NeedARecipe for Smoked Salmon and Herb Sandwiches. Okay, I know it doesn’t sound like a recipe but, as far as I’m concerned, anything that involves the preparation of food is fair game to be added to the site since I try to cater for absolute beginners as well as more seasoned cooks.
As I was writing the Smoked Salmon and Herb Sandwiches recipe, I pointed out how I had been raised in a vicarage so knew all about the famous cucumber sandwiches (yes, they really did exist!). I also pointed out that, since the art of food is as much presentation as it is taste, it was important to remove the crusts and cut the sandwiches into diagonals.
I remember as a child, the Mothers Union (or whatever they were) would gather once a week in the vicarage (a huge, draughty place that was knocked down after we left the parish!) for hymn-singing and sandwiches. The area was desperately poor so, for many, the temptation was probably more the sandwiches than the hope of redemption!
And my parents were far from wealthy, so the sandwiches really were filled with cucumber. However, my mother always made a point of trimming off the crusts and cutting them diagonally into four. The ladies of the parish (who were used to making great doorsteps for their men who worked in the nearby factories) were convinced they were being treated like royalty, even though they were only eating cucumber!
I also got to thinking about my mother and smoked salmon (the sandwiches were the link!)…
As my mother aged, she was less able to look after herself. Fiercly independent right to the end, she hated the idea of going into a retirement home but it was clear she was having problems coping. In particular, she was eating very little because, due to a heart condition, the effort of preparing food was just too much for her. At the time, I was working throughout Europe as Business Analyst for a US Corporation but I was earning more than my salary from the internet. So I talked with M-D (my very understanding wife) and decided to finish with my job and spend time helping my Mum. So I commuted on an almost monthly basis between France and The Isle of Man (a few weeks in France then a few weeks on The Isle of Man).
That’s the background!
One fine day, while I was on The Isle of Man, I collapsed and was rushed to hospital with pneumonia. A few days later, M-D came over from France and, because she’s a doctor, the hospital let me out into her care. So we went back “home” (my mother’s house) and settled in for a few days before returning to France to allow me to convalese.
When I had been whisked away, I knew more or less what was in the fridge. When I got back, the only thing to have been touched was some smoked salmon (now you see the link). And only one slice was missing, which meant that, during five days, other than some toast for breakfast, all my mother had eaten was a slice of smoked salmon. I guess you can understand why we felt she needed some help!
But here’s the rub… my mother had always said she didn’t like smoked salmon! So when I asked her about it, she replied that she thought she would try it out… but she still didn’t like it! Fine except that, the following morning, the whole pack was gone. The empty package was in the trash, but no sign of the salmon. So again I asked mother what had happened. “Oh,” she said, happy as anything, “I fed it to the seagulls!”
We couldn’t help laughing. In fact, we were convinced after that that there were even more seagulls than usual perched on the fence waiting to be fed. It must have seemed like a 5-star hotel to them!
What was the point of the story? None at all… just a memory that made me smile while I was opening oysters! Funny how food does that to you!!
On New Years Eve, M-D (my wife), her sister their two cousins and their partners (and myself) sat down to a typical French evening meal (started at 8pm and finished at 3am!) and, somewhere along the way (after the oysters and smoked salmon) we ate 
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It wouldn’t be an understatement to say that I have a passion for Daube (it’s pronounced slightly more towards “Dobe” than “Daub”) so the idea of finishing off the old fashioned vegetable mix that I prepared yesterday (Purple Majesty potatoes, parsnips, green Romanesco Cauliflower and carrots), along with a good old-fashioned recipe like Daube appeals to my natural instincts (and to my unapologetic stomach!)
