If you’re anything like my family, you are currently watching every dollar. Our wage increases over the last few years don’t even come close to matching the increase in cost at the supermarket. Personally, I’m looking to save money on every meal without depriving my growing family of nutrients, variety and taste. And so, I’m taking a leaf out of my mother’s book, literally, and going back to some meals from my childhood, while applying recent cooking knowledge. There will be no slimy veggies here.

I’m starting with my mum’s chicken korma. Jar paste, cheap protein, simple ingredients and lots of veggies. My mum was a pretty good cook, and while most of our meals were meat (lamb chops or meatloaf) and veggies, she had a decent range. I was eating tacos before Old El Paso made an appearance, and while her carbonara could best be described as a hate crime, I miss her cooking. All of it.

I immediately posted in my family group chat with my siblings, and the four of us spent the rest of the day ignoring work and discussing what meals we still cook for our families now, what we miss the most, and what dinner in 1991 looked like.

For us, weeknight dinners were held at the small round table I took with me when I moved out of home, with yellow plastic chairs mum brought home from her job as a teacher. With six of us I can remember conversations, flicking peas at each other and no elbows on the table. The tv was never on, and before any of us get too nostalgic, I want to point out that after dinner both of my parents smoked at the table. It was our job to wash up.

On weekends we sat in our formal dining room which had green and silver wallpaper, thick brown carpet and everything except the piano was pine. I sat next to my sister, opposite our parents, and my brothers sat at the ends, ready to be sent out of the room for poor behaviour, but more about undiagnosed ADHD later.

We had tablecloths, linen napkins, good plates and silverware that was polished weekly and I can still smell if I close my eyes. Dinner itself was served in the white Corningware casserole dishes with the blue flowers on the side, with the glass lid steaming up as dad said grace.

And I can remember the smell of her korma as the lid was finally lifted. Sweet, spicy and fruity, as she added chopped apples and sultanas. In the early 90s we only ate chicken breast, not thighs, for heart health, and the sauce itself was a mix of jars, with a tetra container of long-life cream stirred through at the end to add richness. The veggies were potatoes, peeled by mum, tomatoes, carrots and frozen peas. It was served with long grain rice, and it was delicious.

I made this for my family last week. I couldn’t bring myself to add sultanas, and I used coconut cream and lots of fresh vegetables. But still I threw in an apple, and I still think it works. It was creamy, delicious, cheap and healthy. It tasted like home, and cost $3.30 per serve.

Recipe, serves 6:

  • 700g chicken breast, diced

  • 1 onion, diced

  • 2 carrots, sliced

  • 2 potatoes, diced

  • 1 head broccoli, florets

  • 2 fresh tomatoes, chopped

  • 1 apple, diced

  • 4 tbsp korma paste

  • 1 cup chicken stock, made from stock powder

  • 270ml coconut cream

  • 1 cup frozen peas

  • 1 tbsp oil

  • basmati rice, to serve

Method:

Brown the chicken in the oil, then add the onion and cook until softened.

Stir through the korma paste, then add the potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, apple and stock. Cover and simmer for 20 minutes or until the chicken is cooked and the vegetables are nearly tender.

Add the broccoli and peas towards the end, because we have learned from our mothers and will not boil broccoli for 25 minutes.

Stir through the coconut cream and simmer gently until everything is hot and the sauce has thickened. Serve in your mum’s old casserole dish and pair with basmati rice.