Memory Lane is Paved with Nosh

The relationship between food and culture is a fascinating one. Expats and their offspring sometimes hold on to the food traditions of their country of origin, keen to keep the culture alive. Cuisine is sometimes the umbilical cord that links them to their motherland.


1951 recipe book cover by Eunice Schraishuhn

Nanette Johnson's blog Gourmet Worrier is more than simply about food.

I guess I have always been passionate about food and I think this has something to do with my heritage and upbringing. My parents are Maltese and immigrated to Australia in the 1960's. They are both of the generation and belief that 'Food is Love' so the greater amount of food, the greater the love.

In one blog entry Nanette speaks of successive generations and the 'proper' way to cook torta tar-rikotta.

Do you have childhood food memories? Well I have lots of them. Whenever my siblings and I get together we often end up reminiscing about food. Like the time dad made ox tongue and forgot to peel it first and how we all gagged and complained about the 'tongue texture' of the tongue. Or the time dad and Uncle Maurice brought a fully grown turtle home from the market and slaughtered it in my aunty Maryanne's marble bathroom in Floriana, Malta and then proceeded to stink the house out for the next six hours with the smell of their foul turtle stew. And then there was the time dad decided to cook an entire pigs head one Sunday for lunch. He just seasoned that head with salt and pepper and banged it in the oven for a couple of hours and then expected us to eat it without complaint!

One of the better or should I say more edible childhood food memories has to do with this ricotta pie. Traditionally in Malta you would make this ricotta pie with fresh broad beans. Dad would lament whenever mum made this pie because he would compare it to his mother's ricotta pie. Apparently my Nanna would add fresh sultanas to the ricotta and broad beans which is quite common in Gozo. Mum being Maltese refused to do so because her mum made it the proper way 'without' sultanas.

And so whenever we sat down to eat this pie, which was at least once a fortnight, my parents would squabble about the same thing - whose mum made the 'better' pie.