Food and death (but not so much history)
This week has made me think. Not just about death, but about food traditions associated with death.
My particular branch of Judaism (Anglo-Australian, mostly) links food to almost everything. After the burial close family eats together (in a fairly informal way) and after each minyan (nightly memorial service for eh week of death) we eat too.
There’s no standard fare, though, because it all depends on what people bring who are not the next of kin. When my grandmother died, we found ourselves gifted with more casseroles than biscuits. When Dad died, I seem to remember devilled eggs and many cakes. Also never-ending cups of tea.
The night Dad died was all about biscuits and tea. For me, these are the foods of comfort in times forlorn. I was going to make some of Mum’s biscuits tomorrow, in Dad’s memory, but (since I’m still not well – I’m going for the Guinness Book of World Winter Bug Records) instead I made a gingernut log. A friend is bringing scones, and I’m making club sandwiches (of the Jewish sort, which means that everyone but me is going to have a bit of a shock – apparently the normal version has meat paste or some such thing), a cheese platter and putting out some nibbles. Maybe I’ll make some pikelets, too. Very low key. This also fits the food of mourning. There really isn’t much energy at times like this. Not even my whirlwind mother cooks when emotion drains everything solid from life.
I’m interested to know what foods you associate with mourning and remembrance. It’s not something I know much about, and it’s about time I learned. In return, I’m giving you my recipe for Gingernut Log.
Gingernut Log
1 packet gingernut biscuits
1 container very thick cream (can be thickened)
Between ½-1 glass green ginger wine
Put all the cream in a bowl and mix with 2 tbs of the green ginger wine.
Spread a generous amount of plastic film over a big plate – allow extra for wrapping.
Put the rest of the wine in a pasta bowl (or anything that’s deep enough and has a flat enough base).
The method is really straightforward. You dip the bottom of a biscuit in the wine then turn and dip the other side. Put the first biscuit flat on the plate. Soon a teaspoon (or more, but more will make sensitive stomachs sick) of the cream on the biscuit. The next few biscuits you dip then stick them to the previous biscuit. When the stack gets high enough, place it horizontal across the plate. When you run out of biscuits or plate, spoon the rest of the cream around the roll and smooth it down.
Wrap the roll firmly in the plastic wrap. Wrap the whole lot in aluminium foil, pressing to make sure it’s all enchantingly even. Refrigerate for at least 24 hours.
We used to make this with chocolate ripple biscuits, cream and Madeira, but Dad liked ginger, so I’m getting two memories of my father in the one – somewhat rich – dish.




August 8th, 2008 at 1:50 am
There’s a Patrick White play based around the importance of food at a funeral. It’s called The Ham Funeral