Wyn Drabble says back in the '50s vegetables were always overcooked.
Wyn Drabble is a teacher of English, a writer, public speaker and musician. He is based in Hawke’s Bay.
OPINION
Foodwise, I suppose you could call us a modern family. On rare occasions when all our sons are home at once, we have a vegan, two vegetarians and two omnivores.
Yes, I’m one of the omnivores. In day-to-day life it’s easier for me to forgo meat but if we eat out you can guarantee I’ll head straight for the meat section of the menu. Words like “ribs” and “pork belly” jump out at me.
Sometimes – but not too often – I recall the food of the ‘50s, a time when meat was a given and I don’t think I’d heard of a vegan. And, of course, pubs closed at six.
Regular protein heroes were casseroled beef, corned beef, savoury mince, sausages, saveloys and, on Sundays, roasted hogget or mutton. If, as a child, you accompanied an adult to the sawdust-covered butcher’s shop, you might be given a free saveloy.
Chicken only seemed to figure at Christmas when it might have been stuffed, trussed and roasted.
Much of the meat was cooked in fat. This was kept in the safe – we didn’t have a fridge – in a chipped enamel bowl. Below the layer of firm fat there would often lurk a lake of tasty brown meat juices and some of these were incorporated into bread and dripping.
Summer salads involved shredded lettuce topped with sliced tomato, sliced cucumber and hard-boiled egg. The dressing, rather curiously, combined sweetened condensed milk and vinegar. You don’t see that today!
The summer hero to complement this might have been what I seem to remember was called Belgian sausage though today I think it’s called luncheon. I can think of no reasonable link with Belgium. My memory suggests it might at one stage have been called German sausage but that was probably changed because of war connections.
By today’s standards, vegetables were always overcooked. Understanding this stayed with us even in our university days. I had a flatmate who, when it was his turn on the dinner roster, would put the cabbage on before his 5-oclock lecture so that when he arrived home at about 6.15 it would be ready.
One day we lost the rubber plug from the kitchen sink. Another flatmate later found it in his serving of cooked cabbage. The prolonged cooking had failed to render it tender.
Carrot and parsnip was a common blending of two root vegetables but this is a practice which hasn’t really survived. I also remember boiled swede though I try hard to forget it.
The ‘50s main course was invariably followed by pudding and here there was generally brighter news. Though many were heavy and stodgy, they were delicious. Golden syrup roly poly was my favourite and it was always served with custard.
Custard was made from a boxed powder and wasn’t worthy of the elevated French name crème anglaise which, properly made, is way more delicious.
We would often have seconds even though that could render us immobile. We lived by the adage “the proof of the pudding is in the eating” which seems more recently to have morphed into the meaningless “the proof is in the pudding”. But that’s another issue.
At a different end of the pudding scale there was junket but, to this day, scientists have failed to explain its existence. Also blancmange.
For a birthday party, sweet treats would include fairy bread, chocolate crackles, iced animal biscuits and packet jelly set in halves of orange skin.
For our modern family, dessert is more a rarity than a regular. But we certainly make the most of the fresh berry season.
Fresh berries cover all our family needs though only some can have the accompanying cream. Animal biscuits are definitely out (except for the omnivores).