Robbinn's Recipes

I learned to cook at my paternal grandmother's house. My mother hated cooking but not once did she serve up what we now call 'convenience' food. Everything was homemade; plain and simple, but freshly bought and cooked.

My grandmother, on the other hand, loved cooking and I think that is where I developed my love of trying new things.

What I do remember about my grandmother best of all, was her cellar. Filled with row upon row of Kilner jars - over 2000 in all and nearly every one filled with produce from her gardens: plums to pickles, jams, jellies and every vegetable and fruit you could think of. The crowning glory was her enormous Walnut Tree which stood halfway between the garden gates and the house - along a curving driveway. Every year in Autumn, a green van with gold lettering on the side would arrive to collect the falling nuts and cart them away. It wasn't until years later that I realized where the van was from (clue: H). But time passes and when my grandparents decided to move somewhere smaller, the Kilner jars stayed in the cellar and were sold along with the house much to my grandmother's regret.

Now, sixty years later my own collection of Kilner jars is growing. Not so much for bottling and preserving but for storage. They are so handy and airtight that I keep many out on my worktop for easy access. It seems Kilners never go out of fashion.