I RECALL many trips as a child on board the cargo ships on which my father was master mariner. Every port was met with such anticipation, following months at sea with nothing but the horizon to capture our attention, day in and day out. Soon the clear blue daytime sky, and the star-filled night-time one, lost their appeal and I longed to see shore, people, the hustle and bustle of life – and most of all, other children.

Being an only child and growing up without the typical experiences most people my age would be exposed to, was rather isolating. But, when I think back, I can never remember a day when I was lonely. I think this had a lot to do with the way my mother engaged me in the preparation of food. We would spend many days making simple stir-fries or biryanis in a her small lidded frying pan.

Most of all, I remember an old family recipe for what I called semolina brittle, from my dad’s mother (Dadijan). It was a hardened semolina-based halva – and there was something about this treat that took me back to Pakistan. Even during times when we'd spent long periods away from the country, the aromas from the dish as it cooked made me feel like I was home. The nutty smell of hot ghee, the astringency of freshly ground cardamom and the toasted warmth of semolina would always comfort me.

A childhood devoid of any contact with freshly picked vegetables or meat markets, did not keep me from being inquisitive. I would spend my days running the length and breath of the ship, up and down gangways and exploring hidden corners of the ship, but what I most enjoyed was trips to the food stores below. I recall a faint smell of musty lentil mixed with the aroma of uncooked rice. These odours would greet me as I approached the big food reserves that were stocked for the months at sea in our ship. As a child, I thought the room looked like a massive warehouse. It was filled from top to bottom with everything from huge tins of biscuits to 20kg bags of basmati rice.

I stood in awe of the quantity and variety of dry goods we stored, and sometimes I would run up to the sweets and chocolates, grab as much as I could, and make a run for it. However, what intrigued me the most were the meat reserves. Near the dry goods store were huge walk-in freezer rooms. Prising open the large stainless steel doors would reveal iced rooms containing whole carcasses of goat and lamb, massive pieces of beef and birds hanging from hooks from the ceiling.

This sight would fill me both with fear and wonder, as I marvelled at how we got so many dead animals in the ship.

Morbid as these sights might have been for a child, I think they created an early interest in me about where my meals came from. Living a life so far removed from reality, this was the one connection with real food.

As entertaining as these trips to the stores would be, I always had an ulterior motive and would return to our cabin with three things in my hands – a box each of biscuits, sugar and semolina. As I dipped my biscuits in my milk, my mother would take the hint, and make my Dadijan’s semolina brittle – a taste of home away from home.

Dadijan’s semolina brittle

(Serves 7-8)

2-3 tbsp ghee, plus extra for greasing

2-3 cardamom pods, ground

250g/9oz/1½ cups fine semolina

250-300g/9-10½ oz/1¼-1½ cups caster (superfine) sugar

½ tsp saffron threads

About 25ml/1 fl oz/2 tbsp water

2 tbsp finely sliced pistachios

Line a baking tray with parchment paper and grease with ghee then set aside.

Heat the ghee in a saucepan over a medium heat, then add the ground cardamom and semolina and stir for two minutes until aromatic: do not allow to brown. Remove from the heat and set aside.

In another saucepan, add the sugar, saffron and 500ml/17 fl oz/2 cups of water, or enough to just cover the sugar. Bring to the boil and cook for about 3-4 minutes until it becomes a sugar syrup at soft ball stage. Remove from the heat.

Stir the semolina into the syrup and stir vigorously. This should be a pourable consistency. Pour the semolina on to the prepared baking tray and spread out until it is 5mm/¼ inch thick. Scatter the pistachios and salt evenly over the top. Using a knife, score the semolina quickly, as it dries really fast. Make into triangles, diamonds or whatever shape you like. Allow to dry for 20 minutes then peel the pieces off the parchment paper.