Dolors' chicken and shrimp: "My mother could make you rice that angels would sing about with just a can of squid."

LlagosteraI'm Dolors, I live here in Llagostera, in Can Regolta, and you could say I've always cooked... Oh, I came here because this house used to be my husband's family farm, and my mother-in-law didn't like cooking. I think you've heard this story more than once, right?

And so, I took care of the kitchen, which is my relaxation and my order. I got married here and had my children here.

Why did I get to cook? From my mother... There were six of us siblings, and we were children of the post-war period! We had very little, as was the case in all homes before. But we were peasants, now peasants, unlike the city, which had a very hard time during those years, which were very gray, very hard, there was always something to eat. My mother, who was very resourceful, could make you rice that angels would sing about with just a can of squid. But we ate what we had at home. The potatoes we picked, the beans... We had a garden, we had cows, which means we made milk, we made flans... A flour tortilla for six with one or two eggs. And we made tomato preserves with champagne bottles... Oh, yes... We put the stopper on them tied with string so they could boil. Nothing was thrown away, everything was used. Gano, no... No, but we didn't have what we eat today.

I do like cooking. It relaxes me. And I, you see, do what my mother did. I pass it on to the grandchildren. I've been lucky, because they all cook. I have two, the youngest, who are eleven-year-old twins, and the other day they made us a pan of rice for twelve! "How much rice do you want? Twelve handfuls, for twelve people?" I ask them (because I prepare everything for them, though). "And they go and say: 'Iaia, no, no! We want so much and so much.' And they tell me the weight of each handful.

When I arrived here, at the farm, I wanted to modernize it. I told my husband (whom we loved very much): "You... We can't live off the ten or twelve cows we have." But I didn't go alone. He followed me; he brought me determination in everything. I told him: "If we don't modernize, we'll have to go find work somewhere else." And he followed me.

We both wanted to work, and we built a farm, initially, for 60 cows. And you know what? The farms, all of them, were modernized by the women—yes, by the women. I signed up, along with everyone else, for some courses in Girona. We went three winters in a row, and there were 40 of us women. One day a week. Some of us still see each other now, from time to time. And, as a result of the course, we all bought a computer and started keeping the household accounts, properly done.

But to do this, you can't be alone. You have to have someone who wants to share it. My husband didn't say to me, like others do, "Why are you leaving?" No, no. I would leave, and if I had to milk, I wouldn't milk that day. Or my in-laws would have to pick up the children for me. It was difficult for everyone, but it was a challenge, and in life, there must be challenges.

On most farms, the husband doesn't like to keep papers. They prefer the tractor, which is such hard and important work... Mine didn't like it. I'd joked with him many times: "One day I could leave home with all the money, and you won't even know!"

I find Catalan cuisine is being lost. My son has an Italian brother-in-law. He always, always talks about Italy. "The cuisine of Italy here, the cuisine of Italy there. And I think Catalan cuisine is very rich, too, and here there's never a brother-in-law who talks about it! We don't pass it on. I do at home. I do, but in everyday life, young people... It's very difficult for them, and we don't find it in restaurants either... They'll bring you that beautiful dish, but it won't be a duck stew with pears. It's very sad that the chup-chup is lost. And I know there's not much time, but getting the family together and saying "today we cook together..." The Italians do it.