Love, loss and finding happiness in small things

I've mentioned my 100-year-old maternal grandmother and her adventurous eating habits a few times in recent months.

Sadly, I won't be cooking for her again, as she passed away last week.

There are so many ways in which I will miss her, so many small regrets for things I still wanted to share with her which feed into the larger sense of loss.

Some of them are food-related: I had already planned the trifle (one of her favourite foods) that I was going to make between Christmas and New Year. As it turned out, she was in hospital by then.

A few weeks ago she mentioned that she'd never eaten asparagus - a fact that surprised me. I wouldn't normally buy asparagus out of season, so this was a dilemma - buy the imported stuff so she could try it, or wait till May so she could eat fresh English asparagus and taste the vegetable at its best? Now I wish I'd just bought the stuff and given her that new experience.

Sometimes I was surprised by what she had or hadn't experienced. Aubergines were new territory, but she was familiar with pomegranates, said she used to eat them "years ago" and found them "a bit boring". So while I imagine them to be a modern import, it sounds like they were eaten in this country in the days when olive oil was something you only bought in the chemist.

Her enthusiasm for trying something new was one of the things that made her remarkable. Whether it was butternut squash, halloumi cheese or Indian food, she'd try it, and nearly always enjoy it. I mentioned in November that she never cooked with garlic in her life, but would happily eat it, whether in my risotto or the Chinese restaurant food she always enjoyed.

Even when frail and very limited in what she could do, she loved her meals. She liked to say: "I've decided to stop saying no to anything." This wasn't strictly true - she would refuse a second glass of wine, but she'd never say no to dessert.

As I observed here a few months ago, cooking for someone is a way of demonstrating your love. To have someone else appreciate it is to know that your efforts haven't been wasted - it's a vital part of the equation. My grandmother was never short of appreciation, love and the ability to take pleasure from the everyday things in life. I hope I can learn from that.

Halloumi with tomato sauce, roasted garlic and peppers

Some of you may remember that I promised to make my grandmother her first dish of couscous. Well, she'd never had it before, and at age 100, I thought it was time she tried out this quick and versatile staple.

But what to serve with the couscous? Tomato sauce and roasted vegetables has long been a favourite of mine with couscous, especially if you make the sauce a bit spicy. But I thought the dish might want a bit more of a focal point.

Things you have probably never eaten if you are 100

My grandmother is an adventurous eater. She claims there's nothing she doesn't like, though in fact she is not keen on potatoes. As I've mentioned before, she's also blessed with a healthy appetite.

She happily eats pasta, pizza, stir-fry, Chinese food, and many other things she was never exposed to for most of her adult life. At age 100, I reckon this is impressive.

Sometimes she will comment on an unheard-of item that she has seen in the newspaper or on television. Last week she asked me if I'd ever had couscous, today it was quinoa. The answer to both is yes, although I am sure she's not alone in never having heard of quinoa before.

Cooking with love and the best brownie recipe

We cook for so many reasons: to appease hunger, to tantalise the tastebuds, sometimes for money, sometimes to feed others, and to express love.

I have been cooking for my grandmother recently (one of my astonishing duo of 100-year-old grandmothers) which has prompted my thoughts about the last of these. Until her health declined a few months ago she would make me rice pudding every time I visited, remembering that it was my favourite dessert as a child. Even after she largely stopped cooking she still found the energy to make rice pudding for me, and I was always touched by it, even the time she forgot the sugar.