Tucker’s homesick and misses his Mum’s cooking. So he thought he might introduce you to his parents.

I want to talk about parents. I’m sure most of the readers out there have them; in fact I’m constantly surprised at the types of people who do have parents. Myself, I’ve got the standard two – a mother and a father. They’ve been married for more than 50 years now, which is not a bad record. How they survived together this long, I’ll never know. Perhaps it’s the mutual give-and-take of everyday living. So how did this give-and-take work with my parents?

Well, let’s take cooking. My mother is the best cook in the world – yes, much better than yours. But my father played his part in Mum’s rise to eminence as a chef extraordinaire – he wasn’t just a male chauvinist meal receptacle. This is because Dad is unrelenting in his quest for perfection – not in himself of course, but in others. At almost every meal, we – Mum and us kids – would wait for Dad to finishing eating (and I use the word “eat” loosely – have you ever seen a pride of lions gorging on a new kill – well, you get the picture). When he’d gulped back that last mouthful, he’d pick up his glass of red (which he especially enjoyed with fish), lean back in his chair, and pronounce this as the greatest meal he has ever had – and then burp (which generally meant he was on the verge of some profound observation) – followed by something like “but I did notice of few lumps in the gravy” or “perhaps the roast was a smidge tough”. We of course would all look to Mum and we could tell from the slight flaring of her nostrils how much she enjoyed this attention to detail and the learning she derived from it.

You must remember that these tuitions take place at every meal. Even the toast was pronounced on at breakfast. A little burnt…….a little underdone etc. Of course these comments were mainly directed to the toaster, which, incidentally, was replaced last year after 49 years. The new toaster is much better although “there are still a few kinks that need ironing out”.

What about Mum’s role in Dad’s development over the 50 years? Although Dad was much better known as teacher than a learner, he did develop in a number of ways, albeit slowly. Probably his greatest learning curve took place after he retired and had a lot of extra time on his plate (which was slightly underdone). Mum suggested that now he’s home full time, he help out around the house. This was when Dad discovered the kitchen. Before that I think he thought of it as the room with the fridge in it (although he may have been vaguely aware that the 5-star cuisine he gorged on every night somehow emanated from this room or at least passed through it).

It was hard work at first. The clanging and cursing emanating from the kitchen in those formative days were a great source of stress for all those in hearing distance but Dad did eventually become a pretty smooth operator around the kitchen – although no one’s exactly sure what he does. And not only that, he has eliminated the kitchen from one of the greatest mysteries in his life – where his underpants were kept.

But it was in shopping that Dad really excelled. Mum nurtured him in the early days – at first allowing him to buy the milk. Even in this Dad showed his independent flair. He didn’t buy the milk in the morning like most people – he preferred to buy it in the afternoon – so around about ¼ to 5 he would loudly declare to all and sundry that he was “off to buy the milk”. A couple of hours later he would totter in. – him with a happy glow about him and the milk, warm and looking well traveled. It remains until this day a family mystery – or so he likes to think – as to why it took him so long and why he seemed to get so much enjoyment from such a simple chore.

But soon it was on to bigger things – supermarkets and….. discounts! Dad, like most men, has a keen eye for a bargain. It didn’t matter much what he bought, just so long as he could marvel everyone with the great savings he had made. Most of these bargains are still in the kitchen somewhere – no one would dare throw them out – ten dozen cans of Spaghetti and Meatballs, a few Pigs’ Balls in Sour Grape Sauce and even a large tin of sheep dip. Still, you never know – they may come in handy one day. Perhaps, some time in the future, a very sick sheep may stagger to our doorstep.

So that’s the 50 years up – a remarkable achievement. Dad is now a much more rounded person – mostly fatted-calf round – but in other ways as well. And Mum? She’s done pretty well – she’s had almost 55,000 meals of pretty succinct advise on how to improve her cooking and, not only that, she’s outlasted the toaster.

r liking.