While preparing breakfast this morning the smell of bacon frying brought back a childhood memory from 1970’s England. A time of vibrant colours, heady music and my Granddad’s quiet, gentle nature. My Mom’s family were from Smethwick (pronounced Smerrick), a Black Country town to the west of Birmingham. I remembered asking my Mom if I could have “a piece in the dip”. She would dip one side of a slice of white bread into the juices from the Sunday roast. I would add ground white pepper, fold the bread in half and savour each mouthful of this prized gastronomic delight. Me and my brothers would also enjoy a “piece” spread with dripping later in the week. This time honoured tradition began for me in my Nan’s house.
Looking back I have realised that this was a rare glimpse into 1940’s. The kitchen had an enamelled gas stove, crock sink, wooden drainingboard and faded toile de jouy wallpaper.
Why the Sylvac Hyacinth vases? My Nan had one just like the one at the back, it sat proudly on the sill of the bay window of her home in The Oval, Smethwick, West Midlands, UK.
More about my accent can be found here Evolution of my accent
More Black Country words and meanings: Black Country Dialect
Classic Black Country sayings: Black Country Sayings
6 thoughts on “A piece”
Really good to read this, Robert – brings back memories for me too, tho I only recall the 1950s. Adrian
Lovely memories. I remember dipping bread into the juices from the roast. And dripping on bread – and that was the 60’s
There is no memory like those evoked by redolence. I wonder if bacon ever evokes anything other than warm and good memories?
For me the smell of bacon conjures happy memories. It is an interesting question, maybe people who don’t eat meat?
Perhaps but I have a theory even the most strict vegans drool when they smell bacon.
How nice to have such good memories!