‘The sweet family rivalry my mother and grandmother had in the kitchen’

We lived in Brisbane, Queensland, at the time. For quite a few years in the 1950s we had the best of both ‘food’ worlds because my nana lived in a granny flat downstairs in our family home, while our family of eight (six kids and two very tired parents) thoroughly enjoyed her company; most of the time. Looking back, although it always seemed to be ‘spatulas at 10 paces’, I believe these two outstanding women were teaching us kids more than just kitchen skills.

Truthfully, I think Nana may have been a crotchety old biddy but we all loved her to bits. Central to this cheerful living arrangement was my mum and Nana’s friendly dessert competitions because, from the kids’ point of view, ‘we’ ended up the winners! Except when it came to the Junket/sago/tapioca debate — it was an endless dispute with much discussion.

Meanwhile, being sent to the corner shop for two bobs worth of broken biscuits and stale cake meant only one thing – trifle was going to be served for dessert the following night. The only question was if it was Mum’s or Nana’s trifle. The difference was Nana’s recipe included a heavy-handed, overly-generous amount of brandy and Mum’s didn’t. We preferred Mum’s, Dad preferred Nana’s — that always made us laugh.

The vanilla slice contest was also hard fought although the same basics of a layer of biscuit, custard, icing and passionfruit were employed by both ladies. Nana swore by Sao biscuits whereas Mum’s more modern approach was to choose a sweet biscuit/slice like the ‘new’ lattice type; very innovative.

Of course, no serious 1950s dessert challenge would be complete without the iconic bread and butter pudding. Again, same basic principle of British cuisine, made by layering slices of buttered bread scattered with raisins in an oven dish, over which an egg custard mixture is poured. Being a modern kinda gal, Mum added tinned fruit, much to Nana’s horror. Let’s not even enter the jam or no jam debate; man that discussion was U.G.L.Y!

Pre-made ice cream in tubs was readily available by the 1950s, but that didn’t stop this inter-generational cuisine battle. Nana used ‘real cream’ and elbow grease, Mum used Carnation/Nestle Milk and her brand new mix master, or ‘lazy bones’ as Nana dubbed it. Either way, we had enough ice cream for weeks.

Even the name sounds disgusting but Junket is a milk-based dessert, made with sweetened milk and rennet, the digestive enzyme that curdles milk; ‘curds and whey’. (I swear Miss Muffett was not running away from the spider; it was the junket!) Sago pudding is a sweet pudding made by boiling sago (‘cat’s eyes’) with either water or milk and adding sugar. Tapioca appears to be the same just with a fancier name. One thing is for sure, as children we all agreed we detested Junket, sago and tapioca and no amount of posh names would change our minds. Mum and Nana could argue the point all they want.

Fruit cake versus pavlova? This remains a source of ongoing family division. All I remember of this particular contest was the Nana ‘over the top of the glasses’ glare if the ‘discussion’ didn’t go her way. That stare was enough to end any argument.

My greatest claim to fame was my apparent magical power that made Nana’s scones taste the best in the whole world; I know ‘cause my Mum told me so. Nana ‘needed’ me to turn a glass upside down, dip it in flour and then press firmly, but gently, into her scone mixture. She ‘needed’ me to make the circles ‘just right’. When guests complimented her on the scones she would always turn to me and acknowledge the importance of my contribution and I believed she actually ‘needed’ me.

Apparently the same mysterious ability applied to my sister, her icing of Arnott’s Milk Arrowroot biscuits and her special ability to sprinkle hundreds and thousands perfectly; Mum and Nana ‘needed’ her too.

Nana and Mum always seemed to have a secret language that had nothing to do with desserts or cooking but had much to do with love, confidence building, choices, giving little people a voice whilst encouraging respect for differences. Plus, I remember both ladies smiled a lot.

I still won’t eat Junket nor understand the difference between sago and tapioca but that’s okay, I prefer to live on in sheer ignorance.

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