A weekend of the occasional catering reminded me of one of my mother’s enduring lessons in the kitchen…
The Ifit.
What’s an Ifit? Well, it’s a made up word that goes back to my mum (as well as being useful for scrabble)
I inherited many things from Mum when she died, not least her collection of thirteen glass mixing bowls and ten measuring jugs, but the one that is most important, which most reveals the essence of that woman and food is a little wooden sign that now hangs above our tea caddy (does anyone else think it’s odd that we have a tea caddy and a golf caddy but no other form of caddy? What does a dried leaf that creates the ultimate refreshing drink and a smart-arse heaver of clubs have in common? No idea. Where was I?

Where was I? The sign? Yes, sorry.
No matter wherever I place my guests
They always like my kitchen best
Mum’s kitchen was her second happy place after her garden. She would occasionally visit other rooms for sleep/guests/miscellaneous bodily functions but they were duty visits.
She cooked to feed, to inspire, to sustain, to console, to love, to mend, to compromise, to mollify and just for the sheer joy of it. But there was one rule, in her kitchen – no, that’s rubbish, there were plenty, but the one I’m thinking of now is the one that said
Thou shall not waste so much as a grain or seed
She would not, could not throwaway food (and if she really really had to because it had developed a fungus whose colour you would only otherwise find on the colour charts for 1979s sanitary ware, it ended up as compost.
Carcasses were boiled into stock, stale bread made into puddings, peelings were either juiced or composted. If jam went mouldy then the mould was scraped off and the underlying, and in her view, untroubled lower layer used as if nothing untoward had happened.
And so it was that we might be confronted with a meal that smelt fantastic but had the look and consistency of wallpaper paste. The ingredients may have once been a chicken and a potato but any semblance of those physical characteristics might have long since disappeared. No recipe was troubled in the making of this feast, no ingredient too humble to be excluded. And they always tasted delicious.

What are we having, Mum?
When asked what we were having, she might purse a lip, furrow a brow and continue to stir the pot.
It’s a sort of chicken casserole, darling…
We all knew what was coming
… ifit works
And so it was that the family had another uncharacterizable yet eponymous ‘ifit’ for lunch or dinner. Chicken and lamb ifits were regulars; after Christmas the turkey ifits were ubiquitous. I don’t recall many dessert ifits but I’m sure there were many.
I inherited many other things from Mum, a lot before she died and one is that no dish is ever ruined by an extra ingredient. My family awaits a lasagne or cottage pie with a certain trepidation if I am the chef. They have been known to play Geoff the Chef bingo to see how many ingredients they can spot in any one dish. No one is surprised if the pork cassoulet has been enhanced with kumquat and chia. In part, it is because, like Mum, I hate to see things go off. But really it is my attempt, in these days of plenty, to pay homage to the simple and homely ifit meals of my youth.
That’s the other thing she passed on: a love of the kitchen. I’m often sent on courses by the family in the hope I might be corralled into the tyranny of recipe fascism. This is me, a while ago, pretending to be able to fillet a fish

Note the stiff fingers; they’ve actually frozen to that piece of haddock. I think I’ll stick with mum’s approach.
ifit cooks! ❤
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Love those photos Geoff and of course your mum’s ifits are obviously a success. I am not so good at adding extras but hubby is and no dish he ever cooks is the same twice!
Have you got “a round tuit ” in your house… A very obscure thing?
We have 😁
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We don’t have a round tuit, interestingly. I’ll put it on my birthday list!
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Lol! , https://images.app.goo.gl/shUVjvSjfZHByjAB9
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We have several! 😀
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Excellent, hope you get them sorted one day 💜💜
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I loved this. I try to cook in the same way. No leftovers have been in the fridge so long that they cannot be tossed into something else. I think that the result is that most of my concoctions look very similar but they seem to taste OK. I’ve not killed the family yet…..
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And if you have killed them off they’ve yet to complain! That was mum’s view!
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Great post, Geoff. I bet many have had interesting ‘kitchen Mums.’ (Did you count your fingers after the fish filleting?!) Because of WW2, and a case of ‘needs be,’ my own Mum was good at finding different ways to eek out our diminishing food portions. NOTHING was ever wasted and potatoes, pastry and bread was used in ingenious ways to fill corners. Mondays bubble and squeek was a must. Luckily, many had allotments or grew vegies and fruit in their back gardens and several people took to keeping chickens…so we were, thankfully, never hungry. Cheers!
Che
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Yes that aLl resonates with me too. We ate healthily and I don’t recall a lack of food. Now heating was a different matter. I’m fortunate that I don’t have to worry too much about my food and heating bills but I can’t help but wonder at my parents listening to the current discussion about people who can’t afford heat and food. Back then you put in more clothes and chipped the ice off the inside of the windows. Not having enough to eat is a different matter
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Stories of your mom continue to inspire, Geoff. 😘
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She sits on one shoulder, dad on the other, constantly debating my behaviour and telling me what they think…
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I love your mom for many reasons but especially because she would not, could not throw away food. I inherited this trait as well and hubby gets some interesting concoctions, but he has never complained (well not to me anyway!)
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She never killed anyone, she always said, followed by, if she had they’d yet to tell her!
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Now I see where you get your creativity, Geoff. My mother was the same way- no leftover went to waste. Wish I were the same way but I generally ignore things I can’t figure out how to use and then throw them out after a month or so!
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I married my mother in many ways, this being one..
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It’s so easy to fillet a fish properly. I did it once! I totally recognise the Ifit, and the Round tuit!
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Dad lacked the abilities needed to be a qualified round tuit.
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I’m sure he was trying!
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Very…
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Did you think I wouldn’t know the answer to the question posed at the beginning.
One is a Malay weight of about 1 1/3 pounds. You bought your tea in caddies. Interestingly the smallest tea caddy I own holds about on caddy of tea.
The other is French cadet mangled by a Scotsman.
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The image of a mangled cadet will stay with me…
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Great memories, Geoff. My mom would have gotten along well with yours. She never threw anything away, and Dad was the human garbage can. They were the definition of thrifty.
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My mother hated getting rid of anything. If my father ever persuaded her to a clear up and three years later some project came up, she would remind him of something he’d got rid of. Memory like an elephant
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My grandma lived in her kitchen too but my mother was a prepared and fast food sort of gal so I guess it skips a generation. My kitchen is the biggest room in the house! I’m also guilty of throwing in a surprise ingredient or two! Generally a jalapeno pepper or mushrooms!
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I’m a legend in my own lunchtime when it comes to random extra ingredients. Strawberries in the lasagne anyone?
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I enjoy cooking and this was an entertaining story.
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I still try and follow her non recipes…
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If your apple pie is any indication I’m sure you do fine.
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I survive!
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Was that a piece of humble pie right there?
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I’m with you re the heating, Geoff…I often traced my name in the ice inside my bedroom window…..
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A lovely family tale, thanks. It’s sometimes better to bung in random stuff, isn’t it.
You and the Textiliste probably don’t remember or maybe even thought it was deliberate, but I once miscalculated quantities for a lasagne and had to put a tin of baked beans in as the upper layer! I quite enjoyed it but have never repeated it…
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You never know where your signature dishes will come from…
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Reblogged this on NEW BLOG HERE >> https:/BOOKS.ESLARN-NET.DE.
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😉 I am out of the game, because for me the kitchen is more like a workshop. Lol I love the products coming out, but have no patience to stay there longer than necessary. xx Michael
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Ah, I think you might be missing a vocation..
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This warmed my heart. What a perfect phrase for using leftovers. ‘Waist not, want not’ was drilled into or brains as children. On your side of the pond, your parents survived WWII (and you never forgot it). On my side of the pond, our parents’ parents survived the depression, and we were grilled in ‘ifit’ dinners. Like you, I have wonderful memories.
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She was so pleased when they worked. Dad always knew which side his bread was buttered and complimented her effusively
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Wonderful!
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I loved your memoir about your mom, and this is just another example of why. I have some ifits to add to whatever concoction I make tonight. In fact ifits are often the main ingredient. Lol. Thanks for the heartwarming share.
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Thanks, yes I’ve developed my own Ifit cookbook..
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🙂
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Just when I believe I cannot possibly feel greater fondness for your mother (whom I know only through your stories) you tell another and I’m smitten afresh. I shall have to add “ifit” to my vocabulary (thanks for the Scrabble tip, by the way). In my childhood home, meals pulled together from odds and ends were called “nothing” (Us: What’s for supper? Mom: Nothing!) because that’s what they were made of, both in quantity and in particular.
At any given moment, at least half my refrigerator is taken up with jars that hold some tiny comestible bit that I either have in mind for something or am confident I can work into something. As for recipes, I consider them texts to be interpreted. They are great for inspiration and the occasional reference to proportion or technique, but I almost never follow them faithfully. And no one has died yet – to my knowledge. 😉
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I’m so with on the recipe as base camp. And my fridge and freezer are emporia of many delights. Most come back for more, too…
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We’re like that too. Leftovers often become soups/casseroles or sandwiches. 😀
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Exactly. There’s no meal that doesn’t benefit from being ifited
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