Tuesday, 21 September 2010
When I was a little girl, I can remember standing on a chair next to my mother while she was cooking. She would tell me that her mother had a Kenwood Chef and had bought one for her when she got married, and that when I was a big girl, my mother would buy one for me.
Well, now I am a big girl (!), I do have one of my own. My parents bought one for me (thank you!) when I got married. I felt very grown-up when I unpacked my Kenwood Chef and put it, in pride of place, in my very own kitchen in the first placed we lived.
If I had to rescue one thing out of my whole entire kitchen ('whole entire kitchen'? That makes it sounds as though I have about three acres of kitcheness....! Errrr.....I don't), then it would most certainly be this:
And now, when I'm with my own daughters, I tell them, when we're cooking together, the story of how Grandma's Mummy bought her a Kenwood Chef and my Mummy bought me one and how when they are big girls, I will buy them their very own Kenwood Chef.
And I'm not ashamed to say that it quite often brings a tear to my eye.