Sights sounds, smells & sayings can stop me in my tracks at times and carry me back on a journey down the years to memories, places and people.
The aroma of a pan of frying onions wafting from a window as I walked down a street in Germany over forty years ago, has stayed with me. Why? It stopped my in my tracks and thoughts, and I was back in mammy’s kitchen, feeling the heat and listening to her chat as we prepared dinner for the hungry hoards.
Fresh baked loaves and I picture myself skipping along to the top of the road, to the local branch of Kennedy’s Bakery, for two Twist Pans or two Turnovers. All the way home I could taste the crusty heel (some people called it the shell piece or end of the loaf) smothered in freshly made Raspberry jam. Yummy! You would have to be quick, there was always a rush to get to the loaf first. I did well. I was well in with the Cook! 😉
Twist Pans
A Twist Pan was a two pound loaf – unsliced. It was the days before we ever heard of the dreaded sliced, so called bread, full of more additives than goodness that comes wrapped in a plastic bag these days.
I used to be a dab hand at cutting this with a bread saw, thinly sliced it gave enough for twelve rounds of sandwiches. Mind you the brothers preferred doorsteps – thick slices and the more uneven the better. 😉
Turnover
A Turnover was also a two pound loaf, this time baked in a batch with crust all over the top and bottoms. The temptation of course for little hands was to pull away at the warm soft sides of the loaf, on the journey home. I must confess that in my time…. there were occasions… a loaf with a mighty hole in it was handed over. Never mind, I lived to tell the tale.
When I hear An Chulainn played, mind that is not often these days, I can hear my granny singing it and I am a child once more.
Bill Haley & Rock Around The Clock has only one Image for me: Standing in front of the fireplace in my dress, short socks and big bow on my hair, staring at the clock on the mantelpiece and trying to visualise anyone dancing round that clock….! I immediately put the fire-guard in front of the fire!
Hearing young children playing outside on the road on their bicycles at the weekend and the sound of a grass mower in a nearby garden, I was right back to our long garden smelling the freshly cut grass and in the field behind it where we played so many games.
Finally this morning three things happened that all slotted into place to remind me of one person. I wonder if you can guess who it was?
1. I read a paragraph with the word synchronicity in it.
2. I came across a quote that he (hint) is fond of using,
Sitting silently, doing nothing, spring comes and the grass grows by itself.
~ Zen
3. I came across this video and of course I couldn’t resist sharing it:
Know who it is yet? Come on. You can do better than that!
I would like to comment Grannymar but after reading your post I have to make myself a big snack. 🙂
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=477X6B1zGio
No brainer Grannymar but I will pass. Let Mayo have all the fun and the medal.
Cute video. Wonder why the grass does not look green.
GFB – I’ll blame all the fresh bread. Save me a slice!
Ramana – A no brainer from a no brainer! 😆
First, let me say that NOTHING brings memories flooding back like smells!
Second … I have absolutely no idea who you are talking about! 😆
gigi – Maybe the grass is not Irish! 😉
Fossie – Whenever Elly needed to be out of bed early, grilled bacon was better than any alarm clock, all I needed to do was open her bedroom door. Good quality perked coffee and don’t forget dark chocolate….
The next best thing to those loaves was my mother making her own. There should have been a law against that! The hoards in my house would descend like locusts!!
Lovely post GM. Nostalgic and evocative to me too… 🙂
XO
WWW
WWW – Mammy never made yeast bread, but she did make soda and wheaten bread every day, then the rest was what ever she felt like baking. It might have been railway cake (soda bread with dried fruit in) scones or griddle bread. Once that was out of the way she baked cakes, buns and tarts AND made the dinners!
Now all I want is some fresh bread! Thick slices, dripping in butter and jam.
Judy – I am on my way to get a fresh supply right now!
Boiling onions always make me think of hot dogs at the seaside.
Tilly – I don’t think I ever tasted boiled onions. Mammy sometimes cooked them in milk for daddy, that was when I left the kitchen! The very thought of it stills turns my tummy!
It happens to us all, doesn’t it, this gift from inside us. Our memories are like library shelves where everything is stored neat and orderly but sometimes hard to get to. But the ones we want are always held in reserve and it takes something like sights, sounds and sayings to remind us.
Alice – I love the idea of dusty wall lined shelves filled with memories.
What lovely memories. Thanks for sharing them, Grannymar. I love the shape of those loaves. YUMMY.
Nancy – Just looking at that turnover,,, I can taste it!