Lucy column Feb 12, 2008

Let’s hear it for rock cakes. And fish pie. And the sort of Victoria sandwich cake you took home in well-risen triumph, or lied through your teeth by pretending you’d dropped it on the kitchen floor when it sagged in the middle.

Start installing the kitchens, education departments, because according to the Government’s Schools Secretary Ed Balls, cookery is coming back on the school curriculum. And about time, too.

Because while, in my day, cookery was less to do with the healthy eating lark they bang on about today, and more a whizzo, bang-on, alternative to the dreaded maths and scary hockey, it was a learning curve. How else would I know that "a stew boiled is a stew spoiled", that pastry making calls for cold conditions, sponge cakes for warm ones, and that if you roast a chicken, or fry a bit of fish, belly-side down, it makes for a more moist meal?

It has stood me in better stead than unravelling the theorem of Pythagoras or working out the necessity in my universe of logarithms.

I’m not sure when the noble art of perfecting the tin loaf, made with stone-ground flour and proper yeast, went off the timetable scales. Certainly, my late son Matthew did at least one term on the, by then called, home economics front at what is now Littleover Community School, in the 70s, because I recall the usual Monday morning flap as I searched the cupboards for that day’s ingredients.

Like all teenage lads, he’d "forgotten" not only the class, but what they were supposed to be making. Which is why we had an endless run on quiches, because there was usually a supply of cheese, eggs, flour and butter, but in the case of cottage pie, we were usually fresh out of cottages. His fiancee at the time he died, Rose Kennedy, also recalls her days of domestic science, with a little bit of grief. Some lads sneaked in and turned off the ovens. Her melting moments emerged as one soggy slice. Cookery classes were no more.

Commendably for Mr Ed (Meat) Balls, this is a government gesture towards fighting spiralling obesity in our kids. Trouble is, it’s much more fun and interesting whisking up and creating a jam roly-poly, than dreaming up something artistic with a thinly-sliced carrot tied up with a French bean. It’s tastier and more satisfying to a teenage palate to boot.

But this isn’t going to happen overnight. As something called Food Technology took over from cookery lessons, in came the boffins and the designers, teaching kids the rudiments of an attractive-looking and carbohydrate-free sandwich, the advantages of the omega-3 oily mackerel, and how, with the right packaging, a packet of rich tea biscuits could resemble something sweet and succulent.

Over the past few years, there has been nothing to point pupils in the direction of putting a square meal on a round table. Which means, along with kitchens being abandoned in favour of IT suites, there is also a shortage of specialist cookery teachers.

This could mean a whole new career for those traditionalists from the Women’s Institute, whose culinary prowess knows no bounds, and whose sponge cakes are never known to sag. Or those from my generation, who know at least fourteen ways with a pound of mince. Low fat, of course.










Brenlo..1
There’s good news for the family and friends of the late Brenda Grogan, for supporters of Cancer Research, and for fans of the famous and fabulous Aaron, Derbyshire’s premier Elvis impersonator.
A disastrous "do" a few months ago to mark what would have been the 61st birthday of one of Derby’s most popular daughters, Brenda, left her nearest and dearest with egg on their faces, the charity a considerable amount short of a donation, and Aaron out of pocket because he’d donated part of his fee to the cause, because the venue didn’t deliver. The promised food was a plate or three short of a cheese sarnie, and although we all trooped in with raffle prizes, there wasn’t a ticket to be had. But the ever-popular Aaron, in true showbiz tradition, delivered. And he’s prepared to put his money where his fee should be yet again.
To mark the first anniversary of Brenda’s untimely death from cancer, her daughters Wendy and Karen, son John, sister Joyce and very best friend Lil Bancroft, have organised a memorial night, this time at Mr Grundy’s, Ashbourne Road, Derby, which was one of Brenda’s favourite venues. It takes place on Saturday, February 23.
There WILL be food, and a prize draw, and lots of trips down memory lane as everybody recalls the life, times and anecdotes of the lovely, lively lady who was loved by so many. And Aaron, the Elvis impressionist who is noted for his charity work, will be there to swell the coffers of the cause so close to the heart of Brenda’s people. I look forward to seeing everybody.
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