My mother Anne (‘Hanka’ in Polish) was a natural-born cook. She never used a recipe but cooked by eye, aided by years of experience. Her food always tasted delicious, whether it was Polish fare or recipes she’d picked up from her Aussie friends as a ‘new Australian’ in Sydney in the 1950s. I recall roast dinners or steaks alongside appetisers of herring with onion and sour cream served on pumpernickel bread. Weird but, somehow, it all tasted good.
   
    
    
    
        Published on February 01, 2022 13:00