My Mum and Dad, Jaka and Josip Srzich, moved to New Zealand in the early 1960s from the region of Dalmatia, on the Adriatic coast of Croatia. They met and married in Auckland. Mum grew up in Žrnovo, a small village on the island of Korcula, at a time when water was drawn from a well, everyone made their own wine, flour and olive oil, kept goats for milk and on Sundays baked their weekly supply of bread.
She learnt to cook from her mum, who catered for local weddings and parties. Dad comes from the coastal town of Makarska, where food was scarce during his childhood. I think it's partly because of this, but mainly because his mum was a great cook, that he's always had a hearty appetite. Mum and Dad brought their strong traditions of family and food with them to New Zealand.
After getting married, Mum and Dad moved to Christchurch where they raised me and my three brothers. Back then meals were always a big deal and family Sunday lunch was a non-negotiable event. It was usually a barbecue on charcoal - sun, rain or snow - and we had to be there. My parents kept a vege garden, fruit trees, beehives, a goose and chooks, made their own wine, as well as salted air-dried ham (pršut), which hung in the garage of our suburban home. Mum was always cooking for us or any of the many extras who would visit. She'd even make up packages of gnocchi, roast chicken and cake for my brothers while they were at uni in Dunedin, sending it on the train in the morning so they'd get it in time for dinner.
My brothers and I gradually moved north and, once grandkids were on the scene, our parents followed, settling in West Auckland. Our Sunday family meals were reintroduced.
