Nanna’s teas were a major event, whenever her family gathered at the end of the week, all crammed round the dining table. Bread and fish paste were followed by bread and home-made jam. Toast was made at the open fire and was as thick as the walls of Troy and dripping with butter. Home-made sponge cake sandwiched yet more jam.
But the highlight was the home-made cream horns. These huge puff pastry constructions were magnificent! They were of such a size, shape and fragility that consumption could not be achieved without near-immersion in pints of tasteless white filling. Everyone else seemed to love them. I would try to look full and have another jam sandwich.The cream-horns seemed to be Nanna’s pride and joy, but I suspect the real pleasure was the gathering of her bright family under the grey, slate roof.