'That's the trouble with you young people, you think because you ain't been here long, you know everything. In my life I already forgot more than you'll ever know.' Neil Gaiman.
It's easy to forget that old people were once young. Since writing this blog I've done a lot of reminiscing, particularly about my grandmother Adelina Barbuti. The photo of Adelina in her 20s portrays a woman I never knew. For a start her hair was loose and a bit wild which was quite unconventional for that era and although women increasingly wore trousers in the 1920s and 30s they were still a fashion statement reserved for the daring. Adelina was apparently always ahead of her time, she had a head for business and worked tirelessly in her and my grandfather's café, along with rearing her five children (one of whom died).
My earliest memories of Adelina are of a little old lady, although of course she would have only been in her fifties. Already a widow, she lived alone and worked part time as a dinner lady. She was a strict Catholic and during my childhood was still part of an existing Italian community, each day she would walk down 'The Cut' a market situated 5 minutes from Waterloo station and invariably have lunch in an Italian café with friends.
In later years her circle of friends dwindled and her desire to be needed became discernible. In fact, as time wore on her loneliness made her something of an anomaly in the family's midst. Amongst our busy, 'interesting' lives we saw Adelina as an inconvenience and a slight embarrassment, she became a nonentity. We forgot that she had once been a lover, a business woman, a wild-haired fashoniata, she became just an old person who watched too much TV.
Too many of us assume that ageing is a naturally depressing time, in fact it is often that the elderly are shunned and condemned to loneliness with days spent with no stimulation or interaction other than the TV. Countless studies have shown that when elderly people are given responsibilities and stimulation the change in their behaviour is astonishing. They suddenly come alive again, because we are all social animals and we need a reason to get up each morning.
Luckily, in my twenties I came to know Adelina anew. Working in central London I spent many nights staying at her flat. My visits would fill her with joy, she would shop for delicious ingredients for our meal, bake a cake, put fresh flowers in my bedroom and make sure the immersion heater was on so that I could have a hot bath. These little rituals certainly brought her 'alive again' and reminded her of the person she once was.
I had many delicious meals at my grandmother's but one of the most comforting was her fish pie. She would buy a medley of fish from her local fishmonger and lovingly put this dish together. This has remained one of my favourite dishes of all time.
Nonna's fish pie
Recipe
Preheat oven to 200c/gas mark 6
In a frying pan heat a knob of butter and fry 2 large onions until softened
Add a small packet of frozen petit pois to the pan and cook for 2 minutes
Grease a ovenproof dish with butter, add 500g of mixed raw fish and the cooled onion and peas
Boil 6 large, peeled potatoes, drain and mash with milk and butter, set aside
Melt 25g butter in a small pan, stir in 25g flour and over a low heat, gradually stir in 600ml milk, contiue stirring
Stir in 80g cheese and allow to melt, pour sauce over fish
Spread mash over the top of fish and sauce
Bake for 30 minutes
'I am incapable of conceiving infinity, and yet I do not accept finity. I want this adventure that is the context of my life to go on without end.'
- Simone De Beauvoir.
Love Donna xxxxxxx
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