My thanks to Lorraine Forbes, of Eastbourne (Letters, February 7), for stirring my tastebuds when reading her letter about mum's cooking.
I stopped reading The Argus, lay back in the armchair and closed my eyes. After a few moments of relaxation, the wonderful aroma of those lovely meat puddings, Sunday roasts, dumplings and baked stews assailed my nostrils. It was heaven.
How did the mums of those pre-war days do it? There were no washing machines, dryers or Hoovers to lighten the workload, yet hours were spent every day preparing and cooking food in the oven.
The little baker shops played their part. On Saturday afternoons, mum would make three large cakes, which were taken over to Mr Puttock's in Montreal Road and cooked in his ovens for just a few coppers. The same applied to Sunday dinners, when another baker, Towners in Islington Street, would cook the joints and trays of roast potatoes which were prepared at home. A great help to large families.
I awoke to reality - the microwave cooking dinner in a plastic container.
-Frank Edwards, Craven Road, Brighton
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