After the tragic early death of my father, the family moved to the nearby township of Newtown, a township just across the river, at the bottom of the other mountain that made up our valley. While we had lost so much in that tragic fire, we didn't lose a home. At the time of the fire, my parent's were having a brand new bungalow being built. This was the house I mentioned that was built at the base of a slag heap, which can be seen, centre right in this photo, along with the cliff face (to the right of the slag heap) that we would climb up every weekend. Health and safety? What's that?!?We didn't get to move into it straight away, as it was still being built. Initially we stayed with our grandparents in the next street over for a wee while, before us children were sent away for several months. Michelle to Plymouth to our Uncle Arthur's and Aunty Pat; (my mother's sister). while Donna and I went to London to mother's brother, out Uncle Pete and his wife Aunty Mary.
Londinium
The only food memories I have of my time in London, was that of chips, chicken soup and bovril. With my older cousins we used walk to a nearby indoor swimming pool, where I remember the excitement and amazement of getting a plastic cup of soup or bovril from a vending machine. Technology I had never seen back home in li'l ole Wales. Bovril for the uninitiated is a sticky black fluid, a beef extract that is a U.K. favourite. Either as a sandwich spread, spread on hot toast soldiers with your boiled egg breakfast or added to a cup of hot water for a great 'beef tea', that will always warm the cockles of your heart. Flasks of this was always consumed in vast quantities at football matches, and remains to this day one of my favourite comfort foods.
On the walk back home from swimming, we would often stop at a Chinese chip shop and warm ourselves with a bag of chips. I don't know why, but those chips always tasted just amazing. I never knew why until tasting something similar on one of my trips to Hong Kong. I had some crispy noodles, and the flavour sent me screaming back to that childhood memory. It was I decided, because the same fat used for frying the chips was the same fat that was used for frying the likes of pork etc for sweet and sour and would have taken on the flavour of Chinese five spice and the likes.
apple crumble
When we returned to Wales and into our new home, although we were in a new village we still went to the same school as before; Penguylan. Remembering I was only six years old at the time, myself and my elder sister would cycle to and from school everyday by ourselves. The school would be approx. where this photo was taken, and our bungalow at the base of that slag heap. We had school meals everyday, that I have fond memories of apart from one dish; apple crumble. That crumble texture filled me with dread and I would gag and dry reach at being forced to eat it. Strange then that these days, I absoloutly adore a good crumble. In fact, I would go as far as to say it is my favourite of desserts
recipe - apple crumble
200 gm flour - all purpose
100 gm butter
050 gm sugar - soft brown
preparation method
Pre-heat oven to 180°C. Arrange the fruit into individual ramekins, casserole type dish or pie dish until 2/3’s full. Place the sifted flour, butter and sugar in a food processor and blitz until it resembles breadcrumbs. Sprinkle the crumble mixture over the apple and place on a baking tray. Bake until crumble is golden brown (approx 30 minutes). Remove and allow to cool slightly and serve.
scrumping. apples and all
On those daily bike rides to school, we would often start and finish by riding through a gully or back lane, that ran behind a bunch of houses and in front of a set of allotments. The first allotment ran beside our garden, and my mother many a time would send my elder sister and I on night time raids. It was a veritable supermarket of seasonal produce; gooseberries, raspberries, strawberries, apples, rhubarb, potatoes, carrots etc along with a good selection of flowers.
We would sneak out when dusk came, hop over or crawl under the fence and scrump and plunder whatever it was mum had asked us to get. All very secret agent, exciting stuff for my sisters and I. It was one way to supplement our diet. There was no easy government handouts as there are today, so I guess we saw it as fair game to 'borrow' some of nature's goodies. Never taking too much, or so much that it might get noticed by the owner and always in the hope of not getting caught by the owner. The trouble is when mother came to sell the bungalow a year after moving into it, she found out that in fact, we owned that allotment !
To get from one side of the valley to the other, one could walk over the old colliery area. At one stage, we would have to walk over a large steel bridge to transverse the mighty Cynon river (all 10 - 20 feet of it). One end of the bridge started (or finished depending on how you look at it) at the end of Harcourt Terrace, the house situated at the bridge's entrance would always transfix me. For in the window, there were always toffee apples for sale. I don't know why, I always presumed it was a little old lady supplementing her income. But whoever made them, whoever was selling them, sure emblazoned a memory in me. Whenever I see a toffee apple now, I am transported back to being that five or six year old.recipe - adult toffee apples
200 gm demerara sugar
001 tsp balsamic vinegar
002 tbs golden syrup
020 gm butter
030 gm sesame seeds
preparation method
place all of the ingredients into a thick bottom pan (a non stick omelet pan is ideal). Place onto a medium heat and bring to a simmer. Simmer gently without stirring for 5-6 minutes, until a caramel is achieved (to test if the toffee is ready, put a drop of the mixture into cold water. It should harden immediatley. Remove from the heat, add sesame seeds and swirl pan gently to mix. Dip the apples (skewered on a lollipop stick) to coat. Allow any excess to drip off and place on a lightly oiled baking tray, baking tray lined with greaseproof paper or onto a silicon mat to cool and set hard.
less fun on the allotment
That was not the only allotment incident however. On the return from school one snowy, winter afternoon, it was already coming in dark and we were walking down the lane by the allotments. In one allotment we spotted something that scared the living daylights out of us; a long mound of snow with feet sticking out. We ran as fast as our little legs could carry us, until we got home and in breathless panic telling mum. Had a local tramp, curled up to sleep and died of hyperthermia? Had an allotment owner collapsed and had a heart attack? The local Bobby (policeman) arrived on his pushbike, heard our story and off he went to investigate with our next door neighbour, who's allotment it turned out to be. The body, the corpse, turned out to be a prank by our neighbours sons. nothing more than a dead snowman with welly boots.
spuds and tatties
There is but one food incident from when we lived in that bungalow. It involved instant mash potato, which was a fairly new product at the time My mother's first attempt at it, was making some as part of our dinner or lunch and managed to add a wee bit too much water. Well, when I say a wee bit, I mean that sarcastically. God bless her though, never one to waste anything, she still served it up and expected us to eat it. I don't remember if we did or not though.
cod balls
Around this time, I remember there was one food that became a firm favourite of mine, known as cod balls. Made by Findus or Bird's Eye or one of those frozen food providers, they were battered balls of cod. They had a flavour like no other fish I had tasted. Memories of my sister's not liking them and swapping my chips and peas for theirs still brings a smile to my face, sitting there with a pile of them and just ticking in.
fresh bread
We didn't live in that bungalow long, but while we did, in the nearby township of Mountain Ash, Tesco opened a supermarket. A big event back then, as most shopping was done at the local corner shop or Co-op (pronounced kop in Wales). In that new supermarket, Tesco's installed an instore bakery. What an innovation that was, for circa1966. What an experience it was for me too, to see fresh breads being baked and sold. what aromas there were. Not to mention experiencing the taste of warm bread for the first time ever.
001 tsp balsamic vinegar
002 tbs golden syrup
020 gm butter
030 gm sesame seeds
preparation method
place all of the ingredients into a thick bottom pan (a non stick omelet pan is ideal). Place onto a medium heat and bring to a simmer. Simmer gently without stirring for 5-6 minutes, until a caramel is achieved (to test if the toffee is ready, put a drop of the mixture into cold water. It should harden immediatley. Remove from the heat, add sesame seeds and swirl pan gently to mix. Dip the apples (skewered on a lollipop stick) to coat. Allow any excess to drip off and place on a lightly oiled baking tray, baking tray lined with greaseproof paper or onto a silicon mat to cool and set hard.
less fun on the allotment
That was not the only allotment incident however. On the return from school one snowy, winter afternoon, it was already coming in dark and we were walking down the lane by the allotments. In one allotment we spotted something that scared the living daylights out of us; a long mound of snow with feet sticking out. We ran as fast as our little legs could carry us, until we got home and in breathless panic telling mum. Had a local tramp, curled up to sleep and died of hyperthermia? Had an allotment owner collapsed and had a heart attack? The local Bobby (policeman) arrived on his pushbike, heard our story and off he went to investigate with our next door neighbour, who's allotment it turned out to be. The body, the corpse, turned out to be a prank by our neighbours sons. nothing more than a dead snowman with welly boots.
spuds and tatties
There is but one food incident from when we lived in that bungalow. It involved instant mash potato, which was a fairly new product at the time My mother's first attempt at it, was making some as part of our dinner or lunch and managed to add a wee bit too much water. Well, when I say a wee bit, I mean that sarcastically. God bless her though, never one to waste anything, she still served it up and expected us to eat it. I don't remember if we did or not though.
cod balls
Around this time, I remember there was one food that became a firm favourite of mine, known as cod balls. Made by Findus or Bird's Eye or one of those frozen food providers, they were battered balls of cod. They had a flavour like no other fish I had tasted. Memories of my sister's not liking them and swapping my chips and peas for theirs still brings a smile to my face, sitting there with a pile of them and just ticking in.
fresh bread
We didn't live in that bungalow long, but while we did, in the nearby township of Mountain Ash, Tesco opened a supermarket. A big event back then, as most shopping was done at the local corner shop or Co-op (pronounced kop in Wales). In that new supermarket, Tesco's installed an instore bakery. What an innovation that was, for circa1966. What an experience it was for me too, to see fresh breads being baked and sold. what aromas there were. Not to mention experiencing the taste of warm bread for the first time ever.
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