Enjoyed this post so much! I lived in a tiny cottage once that, despite its size, had a large kitchen and a pantry. A long-ago beau’s grandparents’ home had a storeroom and a butler’s pantry. There’s truly something about these that I adore.
Such a lovely post to read. The meringue story reminded me of family Sunday tea at an aunts house. For dessert we had tinned fruit cocktail and tinned fresh cream. All very grand in those days. We always had to ask permission to leave the table.
We also had a larder before parents bought a fridge. One of the shelves was a thick slab of marble or cold stone where butter and other preserves were placed. How I wish I had one now.
Excellent in-dept piece, Cheryl - congrats! Love the meringue story. I had a larder when I lived in the wilds of Wales (25 years - until 2017). The farmhouse dated from about 1300 (originally a stone-built havod, where sheep were taken to graze in summer). In the foothills of the Cambrians so it was always several degrees colder than at sea-level. I practically never needed to open the fridge (kept it an outhouse as it generated enough warmth to keep the air from freezing). Back in London, I have to keep everything in the fridge, even jam and my elderflower cordial or it grows a little green hat and has to be strained and reboiled. Waste not, want not, eh?
Cheryl your best yet! Took me back to when I lived with my nan- the larder. The mesh window- dark secrets lurked there. Soft digestive biscuits sadly as well…..
Thank you very much Sarah. My posts are always going to be a mix of 'harder' journalistic subjects, and ones like this where the writing can be more personal and joyful. I'm glad it resonates with you.
Enjoyed this post so much! I lived in a tiny cottage once that, despite its size, had a large kitchen and a pantry. A long-ago beau’s grandparents’ home had a storeroom and a butler’s pantry. There’s truly something about these that I adore.
Thank you for sharing your memories.
Such a lovely post to read. The meringue story reminded me of family Sunday tea at an aunts house. For dessert we had tinned fruit cocktail and tinned fresh cream. All very grand in those days. We always had to ask permission to leave the table.
We also had a larder before parents bought a fridge. One of the shelves was a thick slab of marble or cold stone where butter and other preserves were placed. How I wish I had one now.
Excellent in-dept piece, Cheryl - congrats! Love the meringue story. I had a larder when I lived in the wilds of Wales (25 years - until 2017). The farmhouse dated from about 1300 (originally a stone-built havod, where sheep were taken to graze in summer). In the foothills of the Cambrians so it was always several degrees colder than at sea-level. I practically never needed to open the fridge (kept it an outhouse as it generated enough warmth to keep the air from freezing). Back in London, I have to keep everything in the fridge, even jam and my elderflower cordial or it grows a little green hat and has to be strained and reboiled. Waste not, want not, eh?
Thank you very much Elisabeth, it was a joy to write. And thank you for sharing your own larder story.
Cheryl your best yet! Took me back to when I lived with my nan- the larder. The mesh window- dark secrets lurked there. Soft digestive biscuits sadly as well…..
Thank you very much Sarah. My posts are always going to be a mix of 'harder' journalistic subjects, and ones like this where the writing can be more personal and joyful. I'm glad it resonates with you.