From the editor: Ancient (and not so ancient) wisdom

My flapjack recipe comes from my grandmother. My cookie recipe comes from Google. I can tell you which one I enjoy making and eating more. Clearly a leading search engine has nothing when in the running against a fondly missed relative.

It used to be that when I ran up against a household quandary the first thing I did was call my Gran. All of Mrs Beaton’s and Delia Smith’s wisdom put together didn’t hold a candle to my grandmother’s nous and experience as far as I was concerned. It was a way of connecting briefly, letting her know that even though I wasn’t near her she was still needed, she was my household (and sometimes emotional) encyclopaedia. If I had a row with my Mum she might even be able to let me know where it was that my dear clever mother had come up with such a ridiculous argument. She was good like that.

These days I call my Mum. There was an overlap where I called them both for a bit, but now it’s just Mum and me, and sometimes stories told that share something of my grandmother.

What I’m trying to say is that nothing beats personal wisdom. Whether it’s sourced via quick phone call – which also has the added advantage of checking the family headlines of births, deaths and marriages – or via Facebook thread that becomes an archived treasure of how many different ways your friends know to poach an egg without breaking the yolk. Not only do you get the answer to your question, but also the nuanced connection to the person replying. Even if it’s just the briefest of chats.

More recently I got a phone call from my godson, asking me what I might know about an author he’s studying at school. He thought it might be good to research her, and so he called me, because I “have lots of books”. I too feel it’s nice to get the call.

Victoria Nangle
editorial@thelatest.co.uk