Ina Garten, my substitute mum
A sad new obsession began on a drab Monday night while waiting for University Challenge to begin. Flicking around the channels, I saw that Food Network UK had been added to Freeview.
Until last month I only knew Ina Garten as that lady that Adam the Amateur Gourmet adores; the one who did that roasted broccoli years ago. But as soon as I started watching my first episode of Barefoot Contessa: Back to Basics, I was hooked.
She was making a simple orange pound cake, loaded with butter. Sure, the cake looked good and hearty, and I admired her foresight to bake two so there'd be one for the freezer. But it took me two weeks to realise just why I found myself rushing home to be in front of the telly at 7 o'clock every night: Ina Garten looks an awful lot like my mum.
The hair, the complexion, the smile; it is truly uncanny. Tuning in is like hanging out with a wealthy, American, cooking goddess version of the much-missed faraway Mothership.
SIMILARITIES
both ladies
similar vintage
same hair colour and style
similar taste in shirts and chunky jewellery
same olive complexion
same twinkly eyes when smiling
equal enthusiasm for life, friends and food
both place an affectionate hand on someone's shoulder when they're about to say something nice to them
WAYS IN WHICH MOTHERSHIP IS NOT LIKE INA
does not say "How easy is that?"
does not buy posh cheese
does not own a Kitchen Aid
does not have gigantic fancy house with a separate "barn" just for cooking
does not have fabulous friends constantly dropping by to arrange flowers while she cooks them a fabulous lunch
does not have bartenders naming cocktails after her (but surely this has to happen someday)
WAYS IN WHICH INA IS NOT LIKE MOTHERSHIP
no teacher voice
no apparent passion for bargains
unlikely to serve up brown orange juice, onion-scented ice cream or jellyfruit
Sometimes as I watch, I'll imagine Freaky Friday life swap scenarios, where Mum is driving around East Hampton in a gigantic car buying artisan foods, attending charity auctions and yammering to camera in her Aussie accent. Meanwhile, Ina is in Goulburn, hunting down the best prices at Aldi and Coles then hanging out the washing beneath the bleached sky.
Even Ina's banter with her beloved husband, Jeffrey reminds me of Mum and her new husband. When Jeffrey arrives home with steaks or French wine and Ina gazes at him with ga-ga eyes, it reminds me of the Skype chats when mum’s husband appears with a cup of tea for Mum and she beams like a schoolgirl. And when Ina and Jeffrey wax lyrical about their recent trip to Tuscany as they scoff a bowl of pasta, I think of Mum and her husband in raptures over their latest bargain.
"Did I tell you about the chicken drumsticks," said Mum on our last Oz visit. She'd cooked a lamb roast and was recapping much she'd saved on each ingredient.
"I don't think you mentioned it before?"
"Get those drumsticks out of the freezer."
Her husband sprang up from the dinner table, a man on a mission.
"Only three dollars a kilo!" he crowed triumphantly, waving two frosty packages. "We got this steak, too!"
"We rescued them from the chuck-out bin," finished Mum. "Nothing wrong with 'em!"
It might be February blues or general mum-sickness, but until I see the Mothership again, Ina and her butter-laden creations are a decent substitute.
