Blue Jean Chef

Well, if Dad died and went to heaven with his herring salad, I joined him there today with my Christmas breakfast! This breakfast, accra and float, was long overdue. It’s been about 18 years since I last had it, but with one mouthful I was transported back almost two decades to Christmas mornings [...]

Well, if Dad died and went to heaven with his herring salad, I joined him there today with my Christmas breakfast! This breakfast, accra and float, was long overdue. It’s been about 18 years since I last had it, but with one mouthful I was transported back almost two decades to Christmas mornings of my childhood. This was the breakfast I looked forward to every year, made graciously (now I know just how graciously) by my mother.

I ordered my saltfish online about two weeks ago. It arrived cryovac sealed. Yesterday I started soaking it in cold water in the fridge, changing the water twice. This morning, I soaked it in hot water and then proceeded with my mother’s recipe (see here). I was unsure about the direction to “pound” the saltfish, onion, thyme and chive, so I started by chopping everything together and then pulled out my meat pounder and pounded the mixture until I’m sure my neighbours were upset.

Frying the accra brought back floods of memories. I used to stand nearby when this part of the breakfast preparation was taking place. It was always difficult not to steal a taste. Today proved to be the same case, only there was no strict command not to do so. I looked around and seeing no-one, popped a preview of breakfast in my mouth. I was pleased to see my accra looking just like Mum’s. I suppose there’s no need to mention that this is not a low fat breakfast. It is Christmas, for heaven’s sake!

The float replicated Mum’s float as well, puffing up as I fried them in the oil, bubbles appearing everywhere. The only trouble with making this breakfast for yourself is that you have to hold everything in the oven while the rest of the meal cooks. It was better when Mum was the line cook, and we could eat everything hot out of the pan!

What a feast I created! I guess I must have thought I was cooking for an army. In reality, it was just me, and I think I ate less of this today than I remember eating as a child. In total, it took me two hours from the start of my preparation to the time of actually sitting down to eat. I estimate that it probably took me a total of 4 minutes to eat everything. Isn’t that always the way?

Loving thanks go out to my mother for all the years of delicious meals, but especially for the labour-intensive, absolutely fantastic Christmas breakfasts of my childhood, for which I now have a new-found respect.