You Can Never Have Too Many Cooks

Yesterday, for the first time in many long moons, I made a Victoria Sponge as a birthday surprise for a neighbour of mine, who, by her own admission, 'doesn't do sponges'. It was from a recipe given me by my Auntie Nell, and is so basic, it's unreal - three eggs and their weight in butter, sugar and flour. The only 'secret ingredient' is a tablespoon of boiling water added last thing before spooning the mix into two sandwich tins. I believe this is what makes it special of its kind.

As the cooking time grew near to its close, the unparalleled aroma of cake filled my nostrils, and I breathed deeply - it was a near as I would get to sampling the finished product! Eventually, two golden circles sat cooling on my work top, and I turned my thoughts to the butter cream filling which would complete them. I was unsure of the quantity to make - that shows how long since I last needed to know!

I reached my old, trusty cook book down from the shelf, and removed it from its cardboard sleeve. Immediately I was swamped with a rush of memories, almost as though a lifetime of cooking rewound in my mind. I remembered the book new, when I got married, and first read all the do's and don'ts of kitchen hygiene, food preservation and storage, and glossary of cooking terminology. At home, I had cooked various different things from the age of eleven upwards, but now it dawned on me this was the start of a whole new ball game. For the rest of my life, I was COOK, in capital letters.

There was a section at the back of this 'Woman's Own Cook Book' that had several blank pages, ready for recipes to be added, and over the years I did just that. But the pages were too few. I then had scraps of paper, snippets from magazines, hasty notes from friends on tiny pages torn from diaries - each one a new to me but tried and trusted favourite for somebody else. The spine part shredded: several pages became loose: the edges of the leaves became discoloured and brown, a bit like a well cooked biscuit.

As I held the book in my hands. I was overwhelmed by an invisible, jostling crowd of people who had at some time added to my collection, and now left their energies ballooning and swamping me across time and space. They gathered round me, as if eager to come close, as I carefully turned the fragile pages to find the recipe I sought.

It was a Blogpost moment, and no mistake. I knew I'd have to share it with you today, even though you may have come looking for a laugh. Sometimes even jinksy has to be serious.