By KATE HUNTER
Sometimes I’m guilty of romanticising the past.
Things seemed so simple in my gran’s day. Kids raced billy carts in the streets, mothers chatted over back fences. Dads came home at five o’clock, and after a dinner of chops and potatoes, the family listened to the wireless.
There was no online bullying, no one stressed about ‘carbs’ or wrung their hands over what school to send the kids to.
I like to believe that gran had it great when she was my age. But then I look around my house and realise great is relative.
From where I sit, writing at our kitchen table, I can see 8 appliances Gran would have killed for had she been the violent type. If I could be bothered to walk a few metres and open the laundry door, it would be 10.
Air Conditioner: It’s 39 degrees in Brisbane today. Only the dining room is air conditioned so family meals are taking longer than ever. There might even be board games tonight.
Dishwasher: This broke down last year and because of a shortage of parts we washed dishes by hand for a week. It was like camping, but without the fun bits.
Fan-forced oven: Gran had an oven, sure. But it was either hot, or off.
Sandwich press: I remember gran making toasted sandwiches, but in a frying pan, which meant washing up. See ‘dishwasher’ above.
Food processor: Cooking in Australia in the forties and fifties had a reputation as being somewhat bland. I’m not surprised. I don’t think I could be arsed making my own pesto by hand, could you?
Gas BBQ: Pop was a big one for barbecues, but barbies back then meant wood, kerosene, beer and burned meat. No wonder Gran was ‘meh’ about it as a cooking alternative on hot nights.