Jelly and Ice Cream

Mothering Sunday has been and gone in the UK. Apart from tutting at overpriced flowers and cutesy stuffed toys, it also got us thinking about food... as always. More specifically, our childhood favourites, the foods that fuelled our imaginary adventures and provided comfort in the form of warmth and fullness.

When we think back to days long gone, our childhood memories are filled with fish fingers, home-made Sunday roasts, cosy hot chocolates with all of the toppings. Jakob, our resident Editor in Chief, recalls his mum's magic soup (all the veg blended up and fully disguised as something magical in all its golden glory), chips in a basket from his local pub and piping hot pain au chocolat.

Memories of lumpy custard, vienetta ice cream and smiley potato faces are threaded together with celebrations, sick days and day trips. The line between food, love and care are rightfully blurred. From the moment we are a tiny cell in the womb, our mum shares her food and nutrients with us, giving us strength as well our first taste of the outside world.

We find solace in the familiar flavours of cheesy pasta, angel delight and picnic sandwiches. Although our tastes are, perhaps, shaped in the womb the food we eat is a vibrant and mismatched combination of the people and moments that make up our life's rich tapestry so far. The smells, tastes and texture of certain foods magically transport us back to our 8year old selves. Our memories are a patchwork of tastes; when we think of past birthdays we recall the cake, the party food, the extravagant dinners. Christmas is a sea of roast potatoes, empty Quality Street wrappers and images of flaming puddings.

Food is used a celebratory, commemorative and fundamental tool everyday of our lives. Sharing a meal, going out for dinner, picking over a takeaway bridges and debating who gets the last slice of pizza bridges the physical gap between humans and ignites conversation. Food connects us with loved ones, strangers and friends alike and grounds us to the wider world. When a loved one brings you breakfast in bed the pancakes may mean 'I'm sorry' and the fresh coffee a 'I appreciate you'; a dinner date suggests more than what it seems on the surface; and an ice-cream on a hot summer's day acts as a refreshing reminder of just how lucky you are.

As well as nurturing ourselves, it is important that we use food to turn our focus to the world around us. Using our secret weapons, our local independent businesses, we can drive a revolutionary change from within. This mother's day we booked a table for 7 at a tucked away, family-run restaurant by the sea. We hope you had a relaxing day full of comfort, love and gentleness.