every family has their unique approach to expressing their cultural heritage. In our case, no-one spoke much of our dearly-long-departed Scottish, German and French forebears, Let alone their family dishes. Don’t get me wrong. There was enthusiasm there – it was just more for the cultural heritage of others, rather than our own.
Every Lunar New Year, for instance, it was straight to Chinatown for the first sitting. My sisters and I still in school uniforms, Chinese families all around us, and my father, Trev, cheering and ordering up a storm.
On weekends it wasn’t unusual to be piled into the Falcon to drive hours, often to a farm, to enjoy a national day of celebration. I distinctly remember Swiss, Greek and Macedonian days... dancing, music, food, wine, national costumes.…
