Today’s assignment: write about your favourite food and what it means to you.

As trivial and plain as this might sound, I used to love my mum’s sandwiches! To me they have a special meaning. Her love and thoughtfullness. And one true talent she had, albeit unacclaimed.

The thing is, she didn’t have to make them for me. I was a grown-up twenty-something, so it’s not like I was incapable of making my own sandwiches. Still, she religiosly made them for me, every single (working) day.

She wasn’t the greatest cook in the world, so as much as I was used to and liked her cooking, I have to cross my heart and admit that, say, my mother-in-law is much better in the kitchen.

The sandwiches my mum made for me, though, were a work of art. Truly and deliciously! She never had to do any special shopping for that, just used up whatever was in the fridge and the cupboards. And, still, I never got bored with them.

This was probably the only occasion when she really experimented with food and used her imagination. This was her way of showing her love and care for her big daughter who used to come home late (after having a drink with friends, as she enjoyed her youth as much as she could) ready to hit the bed. She didn’t have to worry about getting ready for tomorrow: just shower and relax.

I am now a mum of two. I do love making a packed lunch for my son, but my, do I struggle working out what the hell to put it his sandwiches. It if isn’t ham and cheese, it is egg and mayonnaise. And… errr, ham, cheese, and gherkin. While mum always used to surprise me with her fillings, and hardly ever repeated them.

No idea how she did it. After 14 years, I hardly remember what was in them. What I remember, though, is how much I used to look forward to eating them.

As much as I respect my mother-in-law’s gourmet talents, I must say, her sandwiches are ****ing boring! I dread the thought of having a day out with her… if that implies homemade sandwiches. Sigh. Dry and boring.

Not like mum’s – always moist, generously filled and bursting with flavours, sometimes from ingredients you wouldn’t think would go together.

But, then, that was my mum. Who loved her only daughter. I love you, mum. If there is a sandwich shop in heaven, I hope that you are the chef. ❤