I find it really funny that, growing up, my family was regarded as really foodie (well, before that term existed) with weird or posh eating habits. My dad had lived in places throughout Europe and the Middle East and both parents were massively adventurous when it came to cooking so hummus, taramasalata, pitta bread, feta, halloumi, olives and proper pasta (at a time when all my friends only know spaghetti from a tin) were all commonplace in our house. The thing is that my parents are still stuck in a rut of “adventurous in the 80s” so, for example, despite my mum being a great cook, she cannot get her head around fresh parmesan and when staying with us, always insists on buying one of those cardboard tubs of grated cheese which taste and smell off. To her, though, this is the “proper stuff” because that’s what we ate at a time when no-one else we knew was eating Italian food at all. Also, although they attempted to recreate lovely Mediterranean dishes, they were mainly cooked in sunflower oil as olive oil was definitely only used for medicinal purposes.
I remember my mum making garlic bread as part of a buffet in the mid-80s. It really was like that Peter Kay sketch. People were daring each other to try the tines amount.
A lot of food was still alien or too posh for us though. Mainly fruit – we had apples, grapes and bananas at home. Kiwis, mangos, pineapples etc were for very special occasions. Spinach, for some reason, was seen as too posh for us. My dad regularly remarks with awe on how I use spinach in almost everything and always wants to know where I bought it, as if it is some exotic delicacy. We had sweet potatoes occasionally and loved them but they were so hard to find in shops. They started to become more readily available in the late 90s and I hosted a dinner party in my very first flat where I served roast chicken with mashed sweet potato – hardly anyone touched the mash, just pushed it around the plate eyeing it suspiciously. Chinese and Indian food were seen as hugely exotic and something we aspired to eat. Curries would be made for special occasions but always using a jar of sauce with other bits added to it. My parents now, can’t get their heads around eh fact that I make curry from scratch with spices etc.
Despite being quite well versed in Italian food, I remember mum bringing home pesto for the first time. We had heard of it and knew it was popular in Italy but had no idea what to do with it. The label suggested using it as a baked potato topping(???!) so we used a whole jar each, just dolloped on our spuds. We all found it disgusting and vowed never to try pesto again. About 10 years later, I went to a friend’s house and was served pasta pesto, finally realising that less is more! It’s now a staple ingredient in our house, to my mum’s dismay.