The Drawer of New Beginnings
An Origin Story: Be-Ro and the Home Cook
The drawer of requirement is full of everything and anything. It lurks in waiting, sweeping things up, maybe secretly in the night or maybe one item at a time during the day. Sellotape, random pens, pencils, a tape measure, and the key for the outside gas cupboard if you're lucky, for when you need to read the meter. The screwdriver that's usually the opposite tip of the one you actually need. Bills from years gone by and receipts that you know you need to keep, but never the one you're trying to find. In our case, this should have been the cutlery drawer. It kept the rent book, which was more a piece of cardboard folded over to resemble a book, with a line entry for each month paid. Then there was the Be-Ro recipe book, a staple of any British thrifty homemaker. Given away free to promote the use of flour by the same brand. The book always seemed to work its way to the back of the drawer for its annual Shrove Tuesday outing, marking the start of Lent and, essentially, my lust for pancakes.
Our household bible for anything related to baking, it was more an eighty-page pamphlet with at least four recipes per page crammed into it. It was my mum’s, well-loved, battered, and worn. No doubt obtained before I was born, the cover loosely holding on to the old staples that held the book together. If we wanted anything baking-wise, the instructions would be there in that well-loved book, and that was my exposure to following anything by rote in the kitchen, the rules and a guide. My introduction to recipes.
A good thirty years later, I have a collection of recipe books, spread out through the house, hiding the number in plain sight. Although I'm often threatened with the rule of one in and one out! Some might say I have too many to work through in a lifetime. I still can't help browsing new ones, that feeling of opening a hardback and wondering what knowledge lies within. There is an alchemy hidden inside everyone. A new spell, a new idea, and something that drives me to learn more. As I've grown as a cook, I head towards authors who share experiences, moments in time, and windows into another way of living. Books that take me to new places and offer a broader understanding. Books that take me on a journey where I can close my eyes and imagine the smell of lemons by the sea, or the cook who asks me to join them by a fire next to an old lean-to. The light changing as the bats start to come alive, the wisps of smoke secretly clinging to my clothing, a smell that will be with me for days.
Learning to cook through life is a phrase that comes to mind, and my musings are a little part of me, my journey, and then some. Through my early beginnings absorbing the actions of my grandma and grandad, the cook and the kitchen gardener respectively. The early part-time job as a fourteen-year-old on wash-up duty in a very busy lakeside hotel, where I learned to chop parsley and nearly ate a worm. It was a prank played on me for leaving my bacon roll on the side for far too long. Through to fending for myself in my student years.
The biggest gains, though, were made with my wife, as the pair of us juggled work and brought up two hungry boys. We first took to the kitchen as a way of being together, then sharing meals and recipe ideas with friends. For a period of time, though, that seemed to disappear when the children came. So, then I took to the kitchen as the weekend cook—a way of helping, my way of showing love, and a way to create mindfulness and escape. It became a place to step away from my corporate role, opening up my creative side while making a difference to home life.
As part of the writing group I'm in, I was asked about the Be-Ro book. This prompted me to look it up. The name “Be-Ro” comes from the shortened brand name “Bells-Royal” baking powder, with the name “Royal” removed following the death of Edward VII. I’m amazed to see that it’s still in print, now in its 41st edition and available for just £2.99 plus postage.
For nostalgic reasons, I ordered a copy! Shhh, it doesn’t count to the one in one out rule when it’s for research purposes!
I've wanted to pull my cooking ideas together for a long, long time. It’s a dream that probably started when the boys arrived a good eighteen years ago. It began as a way to chart the food that helped them become good eaters. Then it was the food that I cooked that enabled us to move house a couple of times, sustaining us through the fixer-uppers. Scotland became my muse, with its walks and exploration. Next, the camper van came, bringing summer holidays and two hobs. A box of random recipes was passed on when my mother-in-law passed away. With so many twists and turns, life has a way of happening, and time passes by. The pandemic happened, bringing a moment of reflection and routine changes. I learned about having a practice, systems, and showing up, and I finally sat down and started to type.
These posts are a way of collating and sharing the knowledge I've accumulated over the years—and continue to gain—about recipes for life. They reflect how our recipes and cooking practices evolve over time. This Substack serves as a reference to moments in time and the memories that food can evoke. My skills in the kitchen are constantly changing, growing, and evolving, and this serves as a guide to that journey, sharing the warmth and love of home cooking—from my kitchen to yours, wherever it may be.
Ah yes...probably the first book I cooked from too. I have two copies and still use them. In NZ the equivalent is the Edmond's book. Much the same idea (flour brand).
I bought myself an Edmonds cookbook shortly after moving to NZ; it felt like the proper thing to do. :)
I have gazillions of cookbooks; I find the Eat Your Books website an absolute game changer in how I actually use them!