I have known my step-dad for about 35 years. Mama and I came into his life in a way that supermarkets might describe as a “get one free” type of promotion. I was about 10 years old and not entirely happy with his arrival and so I tested and challenged him in as many ways as I could. He survived my very serious attempt to persuade Mama that he looked exactly like a dangerous, escaped convict who I had seen on the lunchtime news one day (honestly, he did!) I also had a phase thinking he might be a vampire (despite him being vegetarian… something I decided was just part of his elaborate cover.) As a result, I used to add lots of raw garlic to salad dressings, sauces and dips when I used to help with the cooking. I remember once even trying to manoeuvre him into bright sunlight to see if he might begin to sizzle at the edges and I even tried to make my own “holy water” to put in his tea. What all these efforts established was that he was neither escaped convict, nor vampire, that you can’t make holy water at home and that I might have had a slightly over-active imagination.
To cut a long story short, impressed by his resilience, I begrudgingly decided to tolerate him. A good move as it turned out because he is actually lovely, kind, fun and, crucially, he balances out Mama’s divatastic tendencies very calmly. They are both teachers and artists and have that very much in common but, at the same time, they are also a great example of “Opposites Attract.” Step-Dad is a whizz with things computer and technology related whereas Mumsie still seems to be getting over that amazing invention called “the wheel.” Thankfully, they do also share a love for great, vegetarian food. He is also a really good cook and this was a key point that I factored in when deciding to retire from my short-lived career as a “Vampire Slayer” all those years ago.
Both cooking for and eating with my step-dad is really enjoyable as he always appreciates great food. However, there are a few, key differences in our tastes. It is important to mention at this point that he is Welsh whereas Mama and I are Indian/of Indian origin. As such, although he was familiar with some Indian food (which he has always loved), his knowledge of it has broadened significantly because of us. Imagine our horror when, after around 20 years, he casually mentioned that he didn’t much like rice or fresh coriander! This revelation came out of the blue from him and Mama and I literally shrieked back at him in unison “YOU DON’T LIKE RICE OR CORIANDER?!?!?” - as if he had confessed to running an international crime ring. I am honestly not sure if he waited 20 years out of politeness or prudence… I suspect the latter because I am sure he knows that had he mentioned it at the outset of things with us, I would have added it to my list of grave concerns about him… 1. escaped convict 2. vampire 3. doesn’t like rice or coriander.
Thankfully he does now like both those things (or he is really good at pretending!) However, one of our other differences in tastes is that Step-Dad loves pickled onions, pickled walnuts, pickled cabbage, pickled gherkins, pickled eggs, piccalilli …you get the picture. Mama can’t stand them (and I am not a fan) and so he can enjoy these things without any risk of either of us raiding his supplies. The photo is of a chunk of really good, mature cheddar, a good dollop of piccalilli and a couple of oatcakes which I know is the type of little snack he loves (proven by the fact that he ate it after I had taken the photo.) Had it been possible to write a blog 35 years ago though, this would certainly have been a photo of a bowl of rice, studded with lashings of raw garlic, garnished with fresh coriander and sprinkled with homemade holy water and served with a suspicious scowl.
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