ours was 'birds nests' - a ring of mashed potato with mince in gravy in the centre and frozen peas round the edge. That came with the option of ketchup, I believe, but I've never been a fan of condiments really. Mayo with chips is a must, a blob of HP on your 'pigs in blankets' at a push.
Last edited: 05 December 2017 17:32:40
Gardening on the edge of Exmoor, in Devon
“It's still magic even if you know how it's done.”
I've read somewhere that this generation could be outlived by their parents.
My parents had a wartime diet which was much healthier than the chemically enhanced food of today - and this was before bestbeforekeepitinthefridgeandchuckitout days.
Leaving high school at sixteen and going straight into an apprenticeship in an engineering works it was very obvious the class system was alive and well. Most of the younger element had left school from twelve to thirteen, none made it to the official age of 14. They did the mundane and labouring jobs where as the apprentices had mentors and even Friday afternoons at day school unheard of normally at the time. I was friendly with two lads my age who literally had to work for me, I was on piece work they got a little extra if I told the foreman they had pulled their weight. Their lunch was a fresh loaf from the bakery round the corner torn in half to share and filled with a small bottle of brown sauce, that was every day whilst I went to the canteen for a good lunch paid for by Mr Brown who wanted his apprentices fit and strong.
Ours was a small village surrounded by Market gardens and Farms we also got plenty of rabbits and birds in season good food was what we expected and got, it mainly came out of the gardens and from the farms. Mother Bottled preserved pickled made jam all collected from the orchards and hedgerows, she also put down eggs for the off season in Isinglass we could crack an egg Christmas morning and it was as fresh as the day it was laid. The people in the town back to back street houses were not as well fed, poverty was rife and that was not like today where they are poor if they do not have a 50 inch TV and magic phone that does everything bar fry eggs. The Baby boomers never saw this side of life and supermarkets put an end to food grown within the area, we have one market garden left out of dozens that have now been built on.
Then we got the experts on diet, I should be dead having eaten Bacon Eggs Fried bread most of my life plus of course gallons of tea also bad for us until this year when they suddenly found what we always knew tea is good for us after all. My children grew up with good home cooked food my Grandchildren get a lot of takeaways, I dread to think I could out live my Grandchildren.
When my mum was a child, the only way they got fruit was to sneak under the green covering of a market stall, wait for something to drop on the ground, hand out and grab it, then leg it down the road followed by a load of abuse from the stall holder, 1930’s you’d think that was Dickens days.
my dad had a never ending supply of fruit and veg, living in north Kent they had the orchards and fields, so scrumping a- plenty.
And of course, sweets were unheard of.
Gardening on the wild, windy west side of Dartmoor.
my grandfather was a village policeman in rural Devon between the first and second world wars. According to Mum (he died before I was born so I never got to talk to him myself) in the summer he was often asked by local wealthy households to 'keep an eye' on their houses while they were away on holidays. She said she remembered a few times he'd come home and produce fresh peaches from under his bobby's hat, having seen some ripe fruit on the trees in the big glasshouses and cycled home with it carefully stowed
We do as much of our shopping as we can in our village - bread is wrapped in paper, fruit and veggies usually come home in a cardboard box, the butcher does use thin plastic bags but still better than the enormous plastic packages that the SMs use for everything - less volume to dispose of, at least.
This house is part of a very old farm. The main things we dig up are bits of metalwork - gate hinges, fencing bits and bobs, pieces of old tractor - and miles and miles of nylon baler twine. Plus a rather surprising number of Shipham meat paste jars
Gardening on the edge of Exmoor, in Devon
“It's still magic even if you know how it's done.”
Lyn, Stockton had a huge open air market with stalls along the full length of the High Street, people came from miles around because there were trains and busses to everywhere. The stall holders would stack the rubbish including waste fruit and veg for the bin waggon and a lot of towns people got their weekly fruit and veg from those stacks of waste having to hurry to beat the bin men. A far different world.
Raisingirl, we had one Bobby who lived in the village and a lot of big houses, he did the same. He would knock on the door I would answer in trepidation wondering what Mother had done now (she had no respect for traffic laws) but it would be the tickets for the police ball, my parents being keen dancers, he always left with a piece of bacon in his pocket probably to turn a blind eye when Mother did it again. He had white gloves one filled with dry beans, if we lads crossed him we got a smack over the head with that glove and it hurt, we respected him and made sure we behaved when he was around better than todays going to court being told they are naughty then getting away with it. We also had six butchers shops in the village three with abattoirs, animals escaped and the Bobby had a military rifle, he would shoot the animal as it rampaged down the high street with us lads enjoying the spectacle, H&S would have fits if that happened today.
Posts
All of your suggestions appeal philippa
Our gourmet delight was crispy fried bacon,boiled potatoes,tinned garden peas
with a dollop of daddies or it might have been ok fruit sauce.
Healthier options were available on other days but that was my favourite
Last edited: 05 December 2017 16:30:58
ours was 'birds nests' - a ring of mashed potato with mince in gravy in the centre and frozen peas round the edge. That came with the option of ketchup, I believe, but I've never been a fan of condiments really. Mayo with chips is a must, a blob of HP on your 'pigs in blankets' at a push.
Last edited: 05 December 2017 17:32:40
“It's still magic even if you know how it's done.”
What did we know of healthy options in the old days?
it was meat and two veg in our house and you could tell by the meal what day it was.
I've read somewhere that this generation could be outlived by their parents.
My parents had a wartime diet which was much healthier than the chemically enhanced food of today - and this was before bestbeforekeepitinthefridgeandchuckitout days.
Leaving high school at sixteen and going straight into an apprenticeship in an engineering works it was very obvious the class system was alive and well. Most of the younger element had left school from twelve to thirteen, none made it to the official age of 14. They did the mundane and labouring jobs where as the apprentices had mentors and even Friday afternoons at day school unheard of normally at the time. I was friendly with two lads my age who literally had to work for me, I was on piece work they got a little extra if I told the foreman they had pulled their weight. Their lunch was a fresh loaf from the bakery round the corner torn in half to share and filled with a small bottle of brown sauce, that was every day whilst I went to the canteen for a good lunch paid for by Mr Brown who wanted his apprentices fit and strong.
Ours was a small village surrounded by Market gardens and Farms we also got plenty of rabbits and birds in season good food was what we expected and got, it mainly came out of the gardens and from the farms. Mother Bottled preserved pickled made jam all collected from the orchards and hedgerows, she also put down eggs for the off season in Isinglass we could crack an egg Christmas morning and it was as fresh as the day it was laid. The people in the town back to back street houses were not as well fed, poverty was rife and that was not like today where they are poor if they do not have a 50 inch TV and magic phone that does everything bar fry eggs. The Baby boomers never saw this side of life and supermarkets put an end to food grown within the area, we have one market garden left out of dozens that have now been built on.
Then we got the experts on diet, I should be dead having eaten Bacon Eggs Fried bread most of my life plus of course gallons of tea also bad for us until this year when they suddenly found what we always knew tea is good for us after all. My children grew up with good home cooked food my Grandchildren get a lot of takeaways, I dread to think I could out live my Grandchildren.
Sorry about the history lesson I will cease now.
Frank
But so true Frank.
When my mum was a child, the only way they got fruit was to sneak under the green covering of a market stall, wait for something to drop on the ground, hand out and grab it, then leg it down the road followed by a load of abuse from the stall holder, 1930’s you’d think that was Dickens days.
my dad had a never ending supply of fruit and veg, living in north Kent they had the orchards and fields, so scrumping a- plenty.
And of course, sweets were unheard of.
my grandfather was a village policeman in rural Devon between the first and second world wars. According to Mum (he died before I was born so I never got to talk to him myself) in the summer he was often asked by local wealthy households to 'keep an eye' on their houses while they were away on holidays. She said she remembered a few times he'd come home and produce fresh peaches from under his bobby's hat, having seen some ripe fruit on the trees in the big glasshouses and cycled home with it carefully stowed
We do as much of our shopping as we can in our village - bread is wrapped in paper, fruit and veggies usually come home in a cardboard box, the butcher does use thin plastic bags but still better than the enormous plastic packages that the SMs use for everything - less volume to dispose of, at least.
This house is part of a very old farm. The main things we dig up are bits of metalwork - gate hinges, fencing bits and bobs, pieces of old tractor - and miles and miles of nylon baler twine. Plus a rather surprising number of Shipham meat paste jars
“It's still magic even if you know how it's done.”
Lyn, Stockton had a huge open air market with stalls along the full length of the High Street, people came from miles around because there were trains and busses to everywhere. The stall holders would stack the rubbish including waste fruit and veg for the bin waggon and a lot of towns people got their weekly fruit and veg from those stacks of waste having to hurry to beat the bin men. A far different world.
Raisingirl, we had one Bobby who lived in the village and a lot of big houses, he did the same. He would knock on the door I would answer in trepidation wondering what Mother had done now (she had no respect for traffic laws) but it would be the tickets for the police ball, my parents being keen dancers, he always left with a piece of bacon in his pocket probably to turn a blind eye when Mother did it again. He had white gloves one filled with dry beans, if we lads crossed him we got a smack over the head with that glove and it hurt, we respected him and made sure we behaved when he was around better than todays going to court being told they are naughty then getting away with it. We also had six butchers shops in the village three with abattoirs, animals escaped and the Bobby had a military rifle, he would shoot the animal as it rampaged down the high street with us lads enjoying the spectacle, H&S would have fits if that happened today.
Frank.