Family life
Snapshot My parents meeting Joan CrawfordWhen I was young I never understood why my parents seemed so pleased about this photograph – known in the family as the one with Joan Crawford. They told me she was a famous movie star, but I had not seen her movies and, from the photograph, Ithought her less beautiful and glamorous than my mother, so I wasn't much impressed.Now, many years later, I look at this picture and I am filled with admiration for what it tells me of my parents' story. It was taken in Beirut around 1958. My father was posted to the Pakistani embassy there and Joan Crawford's husband Alfred Steele on the left was visiting in his role as head of Pepsi-Cola.My parents had spent the day on the beach before going on to enjoy their usual evening's socialising. During their decades as a diplomatic couple they travelled around the world. They enjoyed and explored every foreign capital they lived in – Nairobi, Beirut, Cairo, Algiers, Khartoum, Buenos Aires. They took agreat interest in all the countries they went to and made lots of friends locally, with many of whom they are still in touch.Although my parents tried to give their three children opportunities to expand our horizons in any way possible, none of us quite inherited their zest for life or their adventurous spirit.My father's face is only partially visible in the picture. Now, ironically, it is the world that is no longer visible to him. He lost the sight in one eye in his 40s and went completely blind in his 70s. With that, he also lost the well-loved pursuits of his independent life the long hours ofbridge, his reading, research and writing. He lives in darkness now, frail and linked up to dialysis machines three times a week – yet despite all his physical setbacks, he has written two books and retains a fierce interest in history and food.My mother attained a degree of celebrity late in life through her acting work in television drama in Pakistan. People now ask her for an autograph and want to have their pictures taken with her.For me, she was always more of a star than Joan Crawford. My parents were definitely the main leads in the film of my childhood. emUmber KhairiemPlaylist Dad's crazy Spanish disco styleWhen You're in Love with a Beautiful Woman by Dr HookemWhen you're in love with a beautiful woman, it's hard …emLater on in life I became aware of boys sniggering at the innuendo of this line, but the first time I heard the song, in 1979, I was an innocent nine-year-old on holiday in rural Spain.The fact that I hadn't heard it before might have been because our household didn't have an extensive modern music collection. My parents had Beatles records and I remember dancing to Abba at a friend's house, but I wasn't au fait with pop.We were on holiday with a family friend, who was between marriages and had what might be termed a wild streak. Tales of her adventurous rambles were legion. She would announce that we must attend some fiesta that was supposed to be marvellous. It would always turn out to be several hours drive away, with a mournful troupe of guitarists playing interminable Spanish love songs until 3am, by which time I'd have fallen asleep on my mother's knee.On one of our nights out we came across an open-air disco. We joined in in a desultory fashion in the corner, Europop hardly being the best thing to shake your tail feathers to. Suddenly Dr Hook came on and my father seemed galvanised by the novelty of a song, albeit cheesy, with a recognisable tune and sung in English.He began to dance, a dance like no other. The song is reasonably fast anyway, but my father moved at double speed, with a strange little flourish of the hands and a look to the heavens at the end of each flourish that made it seem like an eccentric foxtrot. It certainly intrigued the DJ, who playedDr Hook at least twice more soeveryone could see the strange Engleeesh dancing. emMaggie BrierleyemWe love to eat Our Asian chicken riceIngredientsem1 chicken, preferably free-range, about1.75kgemem375ml soy sauce emem375ml cold wateremem5-10 sections whole stars of star aniseemem2.5cm ginger root, peeled and slicedemem5-10 garlic cloves, peeled and crushedemem1 tbsp sugaremem4 tbsp Chinese rice wine or dry sherryememSesame oil to tasteemRemove any loose fat from the interior of the chicken. Place it breast down in apan just big enough so that as much of the bird as possible will be covered by the cooking liquid. Put the rest of the ingredients, except the oil, into the pan and bring to the boil. Turn down the heat to a brisk simmer, cover and cook for about 30 minutes. Turn the chicken over and cook for another 30 minutes, basting occasionally.Remove the chicken and check the juices are running clear if not, return to the pan until fully cooked.Allow to cool on a plate, then shred the flesh and drizzle with sesame oil. Serve with steamed rice, the hot cooking liquor, shredded cucumber and spring onions or salad and chilli sauce.My parents met in Singapore in 1978. It was a classic boy-meets-girl story, except she was a divorced, middle-class woman in her late 20s who fancied my dad's mate Dave; and he was an oil worker, from Gateshead, who had been living in the far east for a while and was fed up with attempting to have meaningful relationships with Asian women who didn't get his accent, British attitude to alcohol or his jokes.They met a few days after she arrived in the country and he introduced her to water-skiing.Once Dad made sure Dave was out of the way,things were pretty whirlwind and within a couple of years they had married and had a child. Throughout this period, they spent a great deal of time in restaurants, often with me in tow, drinking G&Ts and shoes eating chilli crab or prawns with black beans.We moved to Indonesia when I was about 18 months old, where further culinary delights awaited. My little brother arrived and everything seemed to be going well until a change in political attitudes in Singapore meant our family had to move back to the UK, ostensibly temporarily, in 1983.My parents instilled a love of food in me, my brother and my sister, who was born in Scotland in 1986. Chicken rice was a weekday staple and the fragrant smell of ginger often filled the house.I spent the rest of my childhood in Aberdeenshire but left at the first opportunity, taking the recipe with me.My mum loosely based her chicken rice on one of Ken Hom's recipes and Icopied it into a notebook. Since I have been a grownup, I cook chicken rice whenever I want to eat something comforting and delicious, particularly if I am getting over a cold.It is a bit like an Asian version of Jewish chicken soup.I also make it when I want to look like a culinary genius, with very little effort.Let's be honest, it is an extremely tasty boiled chicken. I've adapted the recipe I wrote down 15 years ago, but still have it. I keep the original notepaper in my jar of star anise, which I buy in bulk from a Chinese supermarket.That greasy, soy-sauce-stained, aniseed-scented piece of paper is one of my prized possessions.It links me to my parents, a life I can't remember and my childhood home.It makes me happy, even though I don't need it any more. emHelenemWe'd love to hear your storiesWe will pay £25 for every Letter to, Playlist, Snapshot or We love to eat we publish. Write to Family Life, The Guardian, Kings Place, 90 York Way, London N1 9GU or email family@guardian.co.uk. Please include your address and phone number
