J M Hunter
Bio
Currently writing my debut novel :)
Stories (12)
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Something Old
I've been here for the longest time. Nobody comes, nobody touches me. I cannot remember the sun, or music, laughter or tears. Life changed, stopped, even. Things moved on, and they placed me here, in the dark forever. I have no idea where I am. All I have now are memories of the women I have loved and sadly left behind. But it hadn't always been like this.
By J M Hunter6 months ago in Fiction
My Mother's Recipes (Pt. 4)
This recipe is part of a series of my late mother's amazing collection. These recipes were never written down—rather passed down from my nanna to my mother, then consequently to my older sisters, and eventually, to me. I learned by standing in the kitchen and watching her work. When I was really little, I would be hoisted up onto the countertop by one of my big brothers and I would wait patiently for the bowls to lick. When I grew a bit, I'd stand on tiptoes and watch, wide-eyed, as my mother turned out cakes and pies and other culinary wonders. Sometimes she even let me "varnish" the pies.
By J M Hunter6 years ago in Feast
My Mother's Recipes (Pt. 3)
This recipe is part of a series of my late mother's amazing collection. These recipes were never written down—rather passed down from my nanna to my mother, then consequently to my older sisters, and eventually, to me. I learned by standing in the kitchen and watching her work. When I was really little, I would be hoisted up onto the counter top by one of my big brothers and I would wait patiently for the bowls to lick. When I grew a bit, I'd stand on tiptoes and watch, wide-eyed, as my mother turned out cakes and pies and other culinary wonders. Sometimes she even let me "varnish" the pies.
By J M Hunter6 years ago in Feast
My Mother's Recipes (Pt. 2)
This recipe is part of a series of my late mother's amazing collection. These recipes were never written down—rather, passed down from my nanna to my mother, then consequently to my older sisters, and eventually to me. I learned by standing in the kitchen and watching her work. When I was really little, I would be hoisted up onto the countertop by one of my big brothers and I would wait patiently for the bowls to lick. When I grew a bit, I'd stand on tiptoes and watch, wide-eyed, as my mother turned out cakes and pies and other culinary wonders. Sometimes she even let me "varnish" the pies.
By J M Hunter6 years ago in Feast
My Mother's Recipes
This is the recipe for the corned beef pie I described in my previous work, "My Mother's Pots." My mother would make this as part of our tea on Sunday. She'd also make a minced beef and gravy or steak and mushroom pie, a quiche, sausage rolls, home made bread and jam, fruit pie—either apple or apple and blackberry (if we'd been foraging for blackberries), several cakes—chocolate, Victoria sponge, fresh cream eclairs, gateaux and fresh scones. If we were really lucky we would also be treated to her delicious melt-in-the-mouth Viennese tartlets—dotted with fresh raspberry jam and dusted with icing "snow."
By J M Hunter6 years ago in Feast
The Family Way
It's uncommonly early on a cold December morning and I'm sitting in a blue faux leather chair in the delivery suite of our local hospital, holding my youngest daughter's clammy hand as she huffs and puffs her way through an intense nine hour labour. We've been here since five o'clock last night, and so far have seen one staff changeover and drunk a considerable amount of insipid tea, yet we're assured that it won't be much longer.
By J M Hunter6 years ago in Families
My Mother's Pots. Top Story - March 2019.
It's ungraciously early on a biting spring morning and I'm watching my youngest son haring across the school tarmac, little chuffs of steam trailing his wake in the white March sunlight, and I'm crying. Not with the sentimentality such inevitable maternal unbridling provokes—nor icy panic caused by my nest emptying at an alarming rate. I'm crying because the canteen staff are cooking meat and onions, and I'm remembering my mothers shepherd's pie.
By J M Hunter7 years ago in Families
