The cooking connection

For some time now, I have been enamoured by the concept of communal cooking. I think it’s based on a romanticised notion of women baking at the village oven together. I wonder if a bit more group cooking wouldn’t make the often solitary task of preparing meals more fun. It could help us learn and impart skills, as well as adding to our sense of connection with each other. So simple. So good.

The concept is not original by any means. In early 2010, Michelle Shearer, mother of two, began a concept called MamaBake - all it took was four women and the will to cook up enough food for their families for a week. They bought their own ingredients and implements to Michelle’s home, with a view to cooking up a 'big batch' meal each. These women had so much fun that they raved about it to their friends, who in turn told theirs. In six months the MamaBake ‘movement’ had a Facebook site with over 1000 supporters, a website where MamaBake elders dispense advice to fellow MamaBakers, and groups sprouting like potatoes around the world, including Australia, Belgium, Mozambique and the UK.

I’ve been wanting to get a group togehter for a while. In the end, what motivated me was the desire to re-connect with a bunch of women who were close to my late friend Katerina – ‘Kat’s Kouzina’ was the working title for our little group. An email was sent out. A date was made. We all stated what we would cook: Maria would show us how to make a ‘no fuss’ bread and pizza base that she’d learnt at a workshop by Sally Wise; Nicole and her sister Anne-Marie would make Knefi (a decadent Lebanese custard cake with syrup) that we’d eaten recently at Abla’s in Preston; my daughter would make sticky date pudding with caramel sauce from her MasterChef cookbook; and I would make pasties. Each bought her own ingredients, and big pots and pans for the oversized portions we would be preparing.

We stood around the kitchen bench and demonstrated how each dish was made. Dishes went into the oven one after the other – pudding, pasties, pizza, bread, Knefi. We did the washing up as we went. Five kids ran around our feet while we chatted, cooked and drank Savignon Blanc. We were a well-oiled machine.

We set the table, mustered up a few extra bits and pieces, and sat down to a meal to which we had all contributed. We then divvied up the remains for each to take home, and swapped the recipes.