This article titled “How family Christmas dinners have changed over the years” was written by Paula Cocozza, for theguardian.com on Tuesday 24th December 2013 09.15 UTC
Rita Churchouse, Woolwich, 73
Rita Churchouse was five when she returned to London after the war. Christmas, she says, began on Christmas Day. The children would wake, see the tree for the first time, and the freshly laundered net curtains. The radio played carols. Lunch was at 2pm. “Gammon, boiled. And chicken. It had to be a capon. I don’t know why. I don’t know what a capon chicken is,” she says. “We had roast potatoes, we had cabbage. Carrots. Parsnips. Gravy was Bisto. Mum would serve, Dad would carve.”
The fun became more raucous in the evening, when she would go with her brother, sister and parents to her uncle’s house for a party. Cold meats, pickles, jelly and custard, and cakes. The adults would play a food game. “They used to draw a face on the wall: ‘Ada’. I can remember it so plain. They’d stick a cigarette on her mouth. We’d be having tea and they’d say, ‘Ada, would you like some jelly and custard?’ And then throw it at the wall. My poor uncle’s decor!”
When pushed to select the strongest food memory from all those childhood Christmases, Rita says straightaway, “a bar of Cadbury’s chocolate and a tangerine”. These were hung in a bag on the family’s door handle by their downstairs neighbours, like three elderly ladies. There was a piece of coal each too.
As a parent, in the 1970s, enjoying a comfortable second marriage after several years as a single parent, Christmases became a grand affair. Now there were 13 to tea, special linen, crockery, candles on the table. “We had lovely Christmases”. Her husband prepped the veg. “All ready before I got out of bed.” Her favourite taste was the glass of sherry she sipped while cooking lunch.
These days Rita has Christmas lunch at her daughter’s house. There are three meats now – turkey, pork and gammon. There are pigs in blankets from Marks & Spencer. But something is missing. “The food isn’t what it was. The gammon is nothing like it used to be.” There must be a favourite taste? “Nothing really,” she says. “I haven’t got an appetite any more.”
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