Beulah wasn’t one to share recipes and never taught her sons to cook. Such a shame… she had so much knowledge to impart.
Beulah’s father had been a high-end caterer, but when I asked if he’d taught her, she said “absolutely not”. Apparently K never entered the home kitchen, aside from a memorable occasion where he made the gravy, producing an enormous vat for the three of them.
This is so different to my mum’s approach. I was expected to help regularly and taught to make specific dishes, and have done the same thing with my girls.
When Beulah asked for ideas of what to do with seven-year-old Nova who was spending the afternoon, I suggested cooking together. I was impressed when Nova returned with a batch of perfect profiteroles and container of chocolate sauce, and even more so when I tried making them myself – they are tricky little numbers.
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