Every so often I come across a dish in my repertoire , often remembered from my childhood or early years of marriage, that makes me think ‘what the hell – how on earth has this stood the test of time’? The answer of course is that they taste great, and pretty much without exception are simple to make , as well as being family favourites that kids enjoy as much as adults. Even with that, how they ever got up in the first place remains a mystery and testament to our overall creativeness. Such a dish is ‘70s style chow mein.

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Although these days there is a huge variety of foods and recipe styles available in Australia, I recall reading or hearing that the majority of families have a relatively small repertoire of dishes that they make and consume for dinner, punctuated by something new here and there. When I first started doing all the family cooking I didn’t have such a catalogue of recipes to fall back on, so I took to buying one of each of the monthly magazines and trawling through for inspiration.

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Until the last couple of years I never really made risotto and was not overly keen on it, probably for several reasons. One was that I was not very good at it and never seemed to be able to get that nice risotto consistency and texture, nor had I had it anywhere else that convinced me it was worth my time investing in learning. It shouldn’t be hard to make but it’s not called the curse of the Masterchef kitchen for no reason. Another was who wants to spend 20 minutes or more continuously stirring stock into rice, especially if you’re pretty sure the end result won’t live up to expectations. But then two things happened for me – I had a risotto that convinced me to try again, and I discovered doing it in the pressure cooker.

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One of the things I love about food is the memories it is capable of evoking, partly through association of a particular dish with a place, and no doubt strongly driven by smell. Smells in particular seem to be a very powerful memory driver matching the power of music to do the same thing. Moussaka is one such dish that brings back pleasant memories of Greece and Athens in particular, and our young child-free days.

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I’m not working from a large or statistically valid sample size here, but I think that by the standards of most home cooks these days I have a lot of cookbooks, somewhere close to 100 and growing. To this you can add a stack of magazines, a file full of clippings and handwritten things, additional electronic recipes I keep in my recipe software, and then there’s the internet. However, the subject of my interest here today is cookbooks rather than these ancillary sources, because (apart from witty, well written blogs <cough, cough>) cookbooks can offer insights and entertainment not available by other means, as well as other tangible and intangible value that appeals to me.

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Murray Tyler


South Australia