tatie toasties and Nanny Dougall
2010
It’s Easter Saturday morning, and being here, on my Mum’s back porch, with Mum, Abby and Lucy is just bliss. We traipse/hop out here first thing in the morning and only move when the sun falls and the mosquitoes come a-biting. Abby lies on the chaise longue, reading Skulduggery, Mum and I are nestled in the big old cane chairs that came from my Nanny Dougall’s, crocheting and talking and dreaming about all the lovely things we can do and make.
[ my ripple - note the highly evolved use of a plastic cup as a wool bobbin!]
Have I ever mentioned my Nanny Dougall? She was my dad’s mum – a lovely woman, hardworking mum, devoted grandmother, nurse, mouth-watering baker, and stitcher extraordinaire. She came from a small town in New South Wales – Taree – where her grandparents had established a timber mill upriver in the 19th century. Her mother, aunts and uncles were very musical and started the Manning River Orchestra and were devoted to their church and good works in the area. I’m sure they must have been busy and productive members of their rural community.
Nanny loved the fine things in life – she had beautiful antique furniture, a huge collection of pretty English china and more linen and cotton textiles for the home than she could possibly use in a lifetime. She knitted and crocheted exquisitely. Produced the finest hand stitched baby and childrens’ clothes. And boy could she cook. By the time I came along, she and Poppy lived in her family’s beach house, on the hill at Harrington, overlooking the Manning River Bar and ocean. It was a wild and dangerous beach and no one ever swam there, but there was excellent fishing to be had. My memories of meals in Harrington are all filled with the fish, prawns and oysters that Poppy would catch (as well as ducks in the hunting season) and Nanny’s wonderful baking. My favourites were her oyster pikelets – I know, they sound truly revolting, but they were fantastic! – and her bubble and squeak.
[ mum's ripple - she's stitching hers in cotton - it has the loveliest drape ]
Memories are beautiful things and I can so clearly recall arriving at their gate late in the night, stumbling sleepily out the car and instantly sniffing the air for the salt and warm fragrance of baking biscuits and pies. Nanny would be by the car regardless of the hour, full of love and kisses, and would help Janie and I out to the sun porch where we slept. A small lamp lit the heavy dark sideboard that was behind our beds, the red chenille bedspreads glowed with dusty, faded cosiness, and there were beautiful bath towels – Nanny loved floral bath towels – with matching face cloths folded neatly on the ends of our beds. I always had the pink and red roses, and Janie had the yellow daffodils. We would fall into our beds and not stir until the sun, full of yellow intensity and heat, would crash over us at dawn. We would open our eyes to see Nanny sitting at the dining table, the radio on, having her early morning cup of tea and cream crackers with butter.
Later, when we lived with her so that Mum could nurse her in her last months of life – she died of leukaemia when I was 11 – I would sit at the table with her, my cup of tea and crackers in front of me, and we would listen to radio together. The local station had a truly macabre program before the 6am news – funereal organ music would play, and then a slow, sad voice would announce the names of all the locals that had died the previous day. Nanny would wink at me and say with a smile of relief, “Well there you go Lily, thank goodness I’m not dead yet!” It was a terribly sad morning when she was.
Twenty-nine years later, Mum and I still talk about Nanny all the time. There is so much we do that she would love and it would be Nanny’s idea of perfection to sit here with her family, her hands busy with stitching. Sitting here in her chairs, crocheting, we feel so very close to her. Just to add to the ambience, Mum made tatie toasties this morning – her version of Nanny’s famed bubble and squeak. Yum-oh! If you would like to share, here are the simple directions. And when you’ve finished, you must pick up needles of some sort, work on something of beauty and use for your family, and send a prayer to my Nanny Dougall. She’s a very deserving lady :-)
Tatie Toasties
Take leftover mashed potato – at least a cup and a half – and add a beaten egg. Combine well. Add half a cup of fresh or frozen peas, pepper and salt. Heat a fry pan on the stove with a knob of butter, keep the height no higher than medium.
Add a spoonful at a time of the potato mix to the pan and flatten into a pattie. Cook gently (the butter will burn if you have the stove higher than medium so keep the heat low), turn carefully when brown and cook the other side.
Serve on buttered toast and season as desired.
11 comments
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Sweet thought about your nanny, I know I would have liked to join her with stitching in my hand. Now that I know what tatie toasties is what is bubbles & squeak?I’m such and American!!but love ALL things food.
Lily – your story is beautiful, it brought tears to my eyes. How precious your childhood memories are of the finest details such as the roses for yourself and the daffodils for your sister on the towels. It is these simple things we do for our children that also in turn will provide the same warm memories in years to come. Happy Easter to yourself and all the family xxx We’ll definitely try the Tatie toasties :)
You are making me think seriously about digging out my half done ripple rug and working on it. I am glad you managed to get to TY. I usually go on Wednesdays, but was at the school Easter festivities that day. I am getting withdrawal symptoms after not going two weeks running!
I hope you have a lovely Easter!
It’s a shame our mashed potatoes never yield leftovers ;-)
Beautiful story about your nan and your time with her! Aren’t memories a nice thing to have?
That sounds like sweet memories indeed! I know just what you mean, because my grandparents are always there with me when I do things they would enjoy. I have very fond memories of doing crafts with my grandmother and baking with my grandfather.
Those tatie toasties look yummy – I’ll definitely try making them!
I love memories, they’re so very precious. One day Abby will talk the same about how wonderful her time was with her own Nanny. That’s a wonderful thing.
The tatoe toasties look delicious. I’m going to make mashed potato tonight and make sure I have leftovers so we can have some for breakfast tomorrow!!!!
What a sweet post! Nanny Dougall sounds like the perfect nanny! You made me very hungry — my cold cereal is an injustice after reading about the tate toasties. Reminds me of what my mom always did with leftover mashed potatoes. Mmmm, I can smell it now. Happy Easter!
You are such a good writer! I could smell the sea and feel the sun and Nanny Dougall’s smile. Lovely memories you have shared. Happy Easter!
When I first looked at the picture of the food, I had no idea what it was, but having tried your other recipes I knew it must be yummy. Can’t wait to try it out. Like Carolyn above though, do let us Yanks know what ‘bubbles & squeak’ are!
You are so fortunate to have had grandparent(s) that you were close to. Three of my four were dead before I could know them, and the fourth was very formal and did not invite closeness. How wonderful that Abby has such a lovely grandmother to connect with.
So touching memories! Have a Happy Easter!
Nanny McDougall sounds like a great gal. I’m sure she would love to think of three generations stitching and talking on your mum’s verandah.