It was only last week when Christmas crept back into our house... My wife Josie was away and I had planned to take my kids out for dinner. At around midday my Mum, who lives next door to us, messaged our family Whatsapp group saying she was feeling slightly overwhelmed by everything going on around the world and here at home also, she wondered if any of her children were around to spend some time together to lighten the load. It’s been a very hard year for so many people. With my Sister and Brothers all occupied that evening I messaged Mum saying I’d cook for us and the Twinnies (my kids) at home.
And so with our plans changed I popped out to a local superstore, renowned for it's European feel and magical middle isle. My Mum, whose father was Aldo Bianchi from Lago di Como, loves hearty traditional food all be it Italian or English for that matter. Italian heritage, yes, but my Mum was born and bred In South Bristol so she knew a cup a tea in a greasy spoon cafe way before she had even heard of a cappuccino. My kids are vegetarian and so I wanted to cook a meal we could all enjoy together, eating dinner as a family is like commune and so we should all share the same meal. I chose to make a Melanzane alla Parmigiana, an aubergine, tomato and mozzarella bake only with the addition of fried potatoes through each layer because my mum loves potatoes.
We sit together at the dining table, my kids rattle on about what they’d been up to that day whilst sitting on their nannies lap, all along unknowingly charging her heart, body and soul. I plate the food at the table, my kids inevitably question what it was and say they don’t like it before even tasting it. Nanny steps in before I loose my cool with a rant about ‘If you are going to be vegetarian... ’ and she retells a story about me when I was a kid and my obsession with food. My children love hearing stories of me when I was young, before you knew they were scoffing down their dinner with delight.
With clean plates all round, Annie-May the younger of my twins by 3 minutes was asking after pudding. Little did they know this was to be the main event because the ‘middle isle’ did not disappoint. I open the cupboard door to the washing machine, here I knew the children would not look and so my surprise dessert would be safe. I walk back to the table and ceremoniously place the chocolate panettone in front of my mamma. Instant cheers erupt into the room and the dark conservatory in which we sit is lit with the smiles of my most beloved kin.
For my mum the smell of the panettone is a deep and powerful memory of when she was young. Long before any shop in England had Panettones, our Nonno would make sure there was always one ready to share with his children (my mum and her three sisters) over the festive break, Italian culture in its most delicious edible form!
And so we sit and tear this wonderful, flavoursome Italian sponge like cake and each inhale it whilst my mum once again retells the story of how her dad would wake her and her sisters up at midnight on New Years Eve after returning from his shift at the restaurant and they would enjoy this cake together just as we were in that very moment.
My mum who had only a few hours earlier felt sad, overwhelmed and lonely left my house feeling happy, nourished, content and loved.
The panettone is a symbol of what Christmas is about in our house hold, sharing what we are so grateful to have, family, shelter, food and love.
This Christmas, we will be once again be cooking for the Homeless at the Trinity centre. Its an amazing service provided by Caring in Bristol over 6 days of Christmas. For more information on how you can help or donate please check out their website or socials.
It may seem a tad early for the festivities to begin but as I write this, the first snow of the year is falling before my very eyes.
Merry Christmas one and all!
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