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A number of years after my mother passed away, my father gave me one of her recipe books. He also gave me another, much older book which he thought was hers but which, as it turned out was my grandmother’s.  I am not really attracted to the whole notion of trying out new recipes despite being a fairly creative person and rather enjoying food although I have friends and family who are constantly swopping recipes and trying to squeeze secret sauces or special ingredients out of one another. I am not the least bit interested in the whole chemistry of food and how and why certain flavours act harmoniously together and why others clash spectacularly. My youngest, son, who has a degree in hospitality and has spent many hours in the kitchen playing with flavours, effortlessly throws together a fabulous dish of salmon and some green stuff and something nutty and I’m in seventh heaven eating it! I do not have the slightest inclination to know how he created it. He often reprimands me for random