Shuck me!

Reading about a man who nearly died after eating broad beans got me thinking how much I like that vegetable, but how I can't be bothered to shuck them. Having said that, Mrs F-C made a very morish risotto last night using broad beans and asparagus - but she did the shucking.

I'm very glad that I've always liked all vegetables. I've never been picky about them. I think it was the way my mum cooked them. So the likes of runner beans, broccoli or carrots did not faze me. My dad arriving at Heathrow Airport wearing a powder blue trouser suit, a wide brimmed hat and holding a lion on a lead - now that would faze me. But veg, no.

Thinking back though, veg at home when I was growing up was very ordinary. Cauliflower, which was always served in a white sauce, leeks, again, always in a white sauce, marrow, runner beans, potatoes in various guises, greens, peas, broad beans, etc., all cooked to perfection, but not exactly what you'd call exotic.

Mum was a great cook though, cordon bleu trained. She briefly had a catering business called Houseparties, so would branch out when necessary. She'd try anything and cook anything, ingredients allowing. Sadly dad was and still is a total stick-in-the mud about food. His favourite food is still anything cooked by mum. I remember once she did celeriac (for a change) and he couldn't and wouldn't eat it. Won't touch aubergines, not keen on courgettes, etc.

Growing up in the Seventies, the aubergine and it's pals were not often found on regular dinner plates. I read that aubergines were introduced over here in 1950, but it's got to be only relatively recently that they've become widely available.

I don't think I saw garlic in bulb form until I was a student, and we never had curry at home, only the home made stuff (curry and rice, as my granny always called it), which was curry-flavoured, and always accommpanied by a side dish of sliced banana, sultanas, dessicated coconut and mango chutney. We had one take away a year, from the Chinese.

So though mum was inventive for dinner parties - beouf bourgignon, chilli con carne, hot herb loaf (never garlic bread), moussaka - and do bear in mind this was the early 70s and all this was considered rather fancy - unless we finished off the leftovers it was the everyday plain stuff for us.

When we go round the supermarket now, it's amazing there's a whole aisle for yoghurt, whereas once upon a time it was Ski and Ski only. Pasta is in abundance, and not just in tins of hoops, which I never liked. Fresh herbs are readily available, there are fruits and vegetables from the four corners of the world. Parmesan comes fresh in blocks and not in a tub smelling of coach party sick, we have black pepper and never white and we don't really know how lucky we are.

I'm glad things have moved on. I like to cook and I'm pretty good (Cordon bleu too - Mrs F-C flounced out of the class we were doing together after three weeks on the transparent premise that she already knew how to do all this and we didn't need two lots of chicken in a veloutte sauce, when in reality she was sulking because I was better than her and she didn't like it one little bit).

So I admit it, I'm a foodie. But if I'm honest, mum's shepherd's pie with fresh garden veg, baked beans and brown sauce would be my meal of choice any day of the week. I'd even ask for that on death row.