When the temperature drops and the windows mist up, certain meals call to us like an old friend. For me, it is my mums homemade soup. She never followed a recipe. Just intuition and a fridge raid.
Softening vegetables, scraps of roast chicken, random chillies from three different packets—it all went in. The secret? The dumplings. Not stodgy, but light, fluffy clouds that soaked up every bit of flavour like edible sponges of nostalgia.
I tried to recreate it last week. I measured things, followed steps—none of which she ever did. The taste was close, but it wasn’t quite the same. Maybe because I wasn’t eating it at our old dining table with rain hammering on the windows and Only Fools & Horses on in the background. Some things you can’t recreate. You can only remember.
Memoir Prompt
Picture a cold winter’s day, the kind that makes you crave warmth and familiarity. What meal immediately springs to mind when you think of comfort on a cold winter’s day? Is it a hearty stew, a bubbling shepherd’s pie, or perhaps a simple bowl of tomato soup with crusty bread?
What memories does this meal bring back?
And what do those memories say about where—and who—you came from?
Was it a regular fixture during your childhood winters? Or did it accompany a particular event, such as Christmas or a snow day?
Is the recipe cherished for its sentimental value, having been passed down through generations? Or is it something you stumbled upon and made your own?
Beyond the food itself, explore the feelings it evokes. How does this meal wrap you in a metaphorical blanket, offering not just physical warmth but emotional comfort? Think about why this dish stands out above all others. Consider what it tells you about your relationship with food. Reflect on your connection with family and the rituals of winter.
Use Your Journal to Explore:
-
The food: What dish warms you to your bones? Is it hearty and savoury? Sweet and nostalgic?
-
The setting: Where were you when you first tasted it? What season of life were you in?
-
The people: Who made it for you—or who do you make it for now?
-
The rituals: Was it part of a Sunday roast, a sick day cure, or a snow day tradition?
-
The emotions: What does this food feel like? Is it comfort, safety, care?
Sometimes, it’s not the recipe that matters—it’s the memory it stirs.
