1. Grainne Madden

    Incredibly unusual to be into Indian food in the 60s in Ireland. Vesta tinned curry would have been the height of most people’s experience

    • I know it’s hard to imagine Grainne. My mother did not cook Indian food back then but loved to eat it.
      Aunty Moira was the sophisticated girl in the family. I have some wonderful stories about growing up in Ireland in my new cookbook, accompanied by a recipe that I am diligently working on.
      Thank for your comment.

  2. Mairead

    Hi Lou, made your dal yesterday, it was great, I didnt have the coconut flakes put extra coconut milk in, I’ll get the flakes next time.
    The first Indian meal I had was in 1960 or 61, Auntie Eithne and Liam took me to ‘The New Delhi’ at the top of Camden Street. Years later it was our late night place for the extra drink(under the table) I’m sure its long gone now. The first time I had Italian, spaghetti bol, was in a restaurant at the top of Grafton Street. Auntie Moira took me, late 50s I think. Before that I thought fish and chips were Italian. Going to make ‘my’ brown bread today, havent made it in years.

    • Hi Mairead,so happy you liked the dal. I’m sure the coconut milk is nice and creamy in it. Thanks for the bit of history it must of been a real exotic taste sensation for you back then. I’m cracking up here laughing about the fish and chips and you thinking it was Italian food. I wonder why the Italian moved to Ireland and opened up fish and chip shops? I shall have to research.
      Your brown bread is a big hit over here, sis. Thanks for the recipe. love Lou

  3. karl dix

    Hi Louise, seeing that everybody is going down memory lane, I thought I’d join you all. The place were I grew up and still live, is, as I said before off the beaten track by many miles. We grew up running wild, like the landscape we’ve been blessed with. My mother cooked plain, our father not at all. But we loved to sit around and dream of places with all the spices beyond. It drove our daddy mad, he thought the world was no further than the county line. Our nearest neighbour, family Van Zanht were different, they knew how to cook. The mother was a small woman with hair to her waist,they called her ‘Golden Feather’ she got the name for the way she cooked. It was said back then that she had fallen for a man that wasn’t from these parts. That time it was very unusual, but life is always good for a surprise. Mrs Van Zanht’s luck was from New York, he worn his life on his shoulder tied up in a cloth bag. What was different about him we’re told, was not his manner but his hair. He wore it like a turban, way high. The contents of his bag was where the magic would come from. He taught her all his cooking skills,which she handed down to her girls. Only the other day while eating your recipe, which was amazing, we talked about how Mr Van Zanht changed us all through his love of food. In some way Louise you are walking in his foot steps. We all love your blog….keep on walking!

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