My sister the Chef is named after our great-great-grandmother.  It’s a very unusual name: so unusual, in fact, that every single google result for it is about GGGrandmother, one of her ancestors, or one of the five women named after her, including my sister. So I won’t be telling you GGGrandmother’s name, because my sister deserves a little privacy on the internets.  Instead, I’ll call her Anna, a name she sometimes used, perhaps because it was easier for the general public to pronounce and wrap their head around. Growing up, I wondered why my sister was named after our GGGrandmother.  I’m named after my paternal grandmother, and my youngest sister after our maternal grandmother, but three generations back is a long way to go for a name. And why all those other women (and men, carrying the slightly more common masculine version of her name)? The answer, at least in part, is the story of her life.  As a child I was told a very simple version of it: a child friendly, bowlderised version (not …