The far distant land of the 1970s.

We had some left over lamb from a roast. Too good to chuck. And a pancake party on the Tuesday so a bit of a busy week. All this inspired me to reach for a different time rather than a different place this week. I just couldn't stop thinking about rissoles  - something my mum used to make but that somehow never grace our meal table. Maybe we eat too much of the roast. Maybe it always feels just a bit too 1970s. But those succulent little patties made of ground cooked lamb and potato.. so delicious. And so evocative, for me, of home cooking. So, with my mums trusted recipe and a bit of help from the BBC food site we were all set for a Time Travelling Wednesday!!

THE DISH
Rissoles for 3-4

• 1 small onion finely sliced
• Cooked and ground lamb mince
• Any left over gravy or juices from the roast
• Two cooked potatoes
• Three tbsps breadcrumbs
• 1 egg

Mix all ingredients together and make into small flattened balls.  Flour well with flour seasoned with pepper and salt. Shallow fry until browned.

Veggie version for 1-2

• 1 open mushroom chopped finely
• 1 small onion chopped finely
• 1 potato  mashed
• 1 tbsp breadcrumbs
• 1 tbsp chopped nuts
• 1 egg

Mix it all up. And do as above.

Serve with reheated left over jacket potatoes and frozen sweet corn and petit pois for maximum 70's effect. A prawn cocktail would have been nice to start with.


THE REACTION
No one even complained about anything.  Which was marvellous since it was v late and we were all v hungry. They may have all been distracted by the mini 'ashing service' we had just done in front of the fire to mark Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent. Eldest and me had ash crosses on our heads and maybe this always distracts from bad food vibes - I should try it more often. It may also have been because I said (in true 70s style) we could have tomato ketchup. Eldest had got a bit more organised this week with outfits - so donned my mum's original 1970s stripey shirt, with winged collars to die for. It was only when she was looking round for something to wear with it that I realised the tight glittery grey shorts she wears everywhere over her tights is pretty much exactly what my mum wore with that shirt. Only she called them Hot Pants and she was probably a little over 11 when she wore them!


THE VERDICT

• Eldest: It was ok but I didn't like the thingamajigs. Well I kind of liked them. I didn't like the ketchup. (By thingamajigs I think she was referring to the rissoles...)
• Middle: no complaining and ate two of them. Amazingly. And everything else on his plate. Maybe that's his culinary problem: born in the wrong decade century.
• Youngest: amazingly, again, no complaining here. I mean his plate was awash with red sauce, but at least the sweet corn and peas stayed on his knife. And he ate at least one half of a rissole. Which is a triumph, I can tell you!

PUDDING
Oh yes, the joys of pancake day (yesterday) and left over waffle mixture. How 1970s can you get: we even have a gadget which makes nice flowery shaped ones. (Mind you this was the latest in Danish technology when we were married. They are a bit stuck, in many ways, in the 70s though. I mean. All those sausages. And bread products. And flags. And buses which run on time. Shocking.) Not sure the maple syrup would have been much in evidence in small town Surrey in the 70s though. I think we had to make do with the golden variety. Not that we had waffles at home ourselves, of course. We didn't even get a colour telly till 1981.

If brandy snaps had been easily made in advance these would have graced the table too. Sadly I didn't have time to either make them or buy them today. They'll have to wait for another visit to a distant decade.

And what with Lent Adventure kicking in on Tuesdays from now til Easter, Lent Groups on Mondays, and trying to think more deeply about 'beauty' in our neighbourhood (Purple Posts) I think it might kill me to produce a culinary adventure like this every week. So, I seem to be in the interesting position of giving it up for Lent. Which feels all wrong somehow.. Any way the kids are pleasingly distraught (well, OK, a little miffed) and I've promised that every now and then we'll go visiting somewhere exotic... So, don't hold your breath, but we'll be back....

Marvellous Mondays and Wandering Wednesdays

Though last week's visit to Spain could not be described as an out and out success, as I mentioned in that post it did come in a week we had two other culinary triumphs, so I thought I'd note them here before they got lost in the mist of time.

On Monday we try to avoid eating meat. Meat Free Mondays in fact - a Linda McCartney legacy. We have 3 staple veggie meals which I wheel out with sickening regularity. This is, in part, because one of them, macaroni cheese, is the only meal (except toad in the hole) that all 3 kids will eat with relish. However the problem with the need for cookbook research on Tuesdays means you do suddenly see interesting things to cook in a way which sticking doggedly to your 3 staples doesn't give room for.

Ainsley Harriott's Gourmet Express 2 is full of little gems and as I looked through it for tapas inspiration I suddenly spied his winter cobbler - which he credits to his wife, Clare, actually. It's gone down very well with adult vegetarian friends so I threw caution to the wind in my bid for expanded kitchen repertoire and introduced a different kind of veggie meal for Meat Free Monday.

Friends, I can't tell you how surprised I was when the Youngest sat down to this meal with the words 'yum' on his lips. I didn't tell him it was full of roasted swede and pumpkin. I bigged up the dumplings, knowing full well that he's a sucker for anything full of carbs.. in fact adding seriously bready carbohydrates is the only sure fire way of getting him to the table and tucking in without complaint. Pastry, Yorkshire pudding, wraps, dumplings. He's not fussy on that score. But even so I was pretty gobsmacked that he declared such an interest from the outset and then just ate his way through his entire plate full. It's got a very creamy sauce that certainly helps. He's much happier with creamy sauces than tomatoey ones for sure. But look! Licking of lips!! Clean plate!! I can tell you that this Does Not Happen Often. Thank you Clare Fellows!

INGREDIENTS (for 6)

• 2 leeks, thickly sliced
• 6 small carrots, cubed
• 6 small parsnips, cubed
• 4 sage sprigs
• 2 tblspn olive oil
• 1/2 pint vegetable stock
• 1/4 pint carton of double cream
• salt and black pepper

For the Cobbles

• 6 oz self-raising flour
• 1/2 tspn salt
• 1/2 tspn cayenne pepper
• 1 oz butter
• 3 oz mature cheddar cheese, finely grated
• 1 large egg
• 3 tblspn milk

Method

• Preheat the oven to 200.c / 400.F / Gas Mark 6.
• Place the vegetables and sage in a roasting tin, drizzle with oil and season with salt and pepper. Roast for 30 minutes until brown. (I also steamed some broccoli and cauliflower and shoved that in one end towards the end of the cooking, knowing they would go down better than some of the roasted veg).
• Place the flour, salt, cayenne, butter and three quarters of the cheddar cheese in a food processor and whiz until well blended.
• Beat together the egg and 2 tablespoons of the milk, then add to the food processor. Pulse to form smooth soft dough.
• Mix together the vegetable stock, cream and mustard, and pour over the vegetables.
• Then with floured hands, roll the cobble mixture into 6 balls and flatten slightly with the palm of your hand.
• Brush the tops of the cobbles with the remaining milk, then sprinkle over the remaining grated cheese.
• Place the cobbles on top of the vegetables and sauce and bake for 20 minutes until risen and golden brown.

And if one success in the week wasn't good enough we also had some serious surfing fun eating Californian at No.33 on Wednesday!

Annabelle and Joe have started Wandering Wednesdays with their friends around the corner, but their friends were sick and so they invited us to join them instead. The kids got a head start, having been picked up by the Lovely Annabelle from school, and by the time I joined them the blue duvet was on the floor of the lounge for surfing on, decorated paper fishes were being hooked from the turquoise cotton waters, a huge cardboard boat was anchored in the corner, two kids were in a makeshift car doing 90mph down the freeway and they were all wearing shorts and shades. To cap it all, the Beach Boys were blasting out over the mayhem. I feel that the next Travelling Tuesday will have quite a lot to live up to! I wish I'd taken some pictures.

I was a little concerned that 'burgers' would not be received favourably by my lot, but clever Annabelle began with a starter of Doritos, which got them into the right mood. And there's nothing like having two toddlers and two babies at the table to make my lot look pretty impeccable in their table manners! But even both boys tucked into their burgers and were delighted to find that the pudding prize was Rocky Road and Coke Floats! I imagine they might be asking to go back to California quite soon!

¡Viva España!

It's 'Spanish Week' at school. Which so far seems to mean that they can wear red every day if they want. But Mr Middle declares they are going to learn Flamenco tomorrow. I love that school...
 
But, you know things aren't going to pan out so well for tea time when two out of three are crying before they get to the table. It's the second week in a row that the Youngest has dissolved into panic that he'll have to go to bed hungry because he doesn't like the look of what's on offer. We're definitely gonna have to work on that one. And Eldest suddenly was in floods because I told her she hadn't asked me early enough to get her flamenco dress out of the loft, so she couldn't dress up. Grief!

It did not help that I had rather gone right over the top with effort. Choosing tapas had seemed like a great idea but, man, it does involve a lot of dirty dishes, utensils, many different trips to the shops, and generally a whole lot of time. And I didn't even get around to doing the sardines, the 'quick' paella or the tortilla!

But I did make a starter. A starter?? For tea time? What was I thinking?! It just looked summery and interesting and easy - a cold soup. What better way of widening my kids' experience of food? Felicity Cloake does this thing in the Guardian trying out lots of different recipes to come up with the 'perfect' version of whatever it is. I have to say, Felicity, that on this one you're wide, wide off the mark. A little bit disappointing doesn't even get close! Even I didn't even finish my bowl. Mind you, when she'd calmed down the Eldest ate it all and had seconds. Hurrah.


THE DISH(ES)

(So many of them today I think it will be too tortuous to list all the recipes here... but I've added links if you want to find them easily. I stuck to them more or less. But I am a bit fast and loose with recipes. I added less chilli than most suggested, preferring instead that wonderful smoky paprika. And used the pear cider (it was in the cupboard. Don't ask me where it came from!) in all the places it called for sherry vinegar.)

GAZPACHO
May not have been a winner because I was using a little hand blender. Never have had one of those swanky huge Moulinex things (which also shows my age. Moulinex was probably the brand my mother had. There are much swankier ones now, I'm sure.

CANELLINI BEANS WITH CHORIZO
I simply made some for the veggie daughter (who, natch, doesn't like beans!) without the sausage.

GARLICKY MUSHROOMS
I can't believe i tried to introduce mushrooms.

CHORIZO AND APPLE
Thanks Mo and Co. for the inspiration for this one.

SMOKY CHICKEN SKEWERS

PATATAS BRAVAS
There are lots of recipes for these tomatoey potatoes out there but I adapted an Ainsley Harriott one.
Enough potatoes for 5 - boiled and cooled and peeled.

• A small onion
• 4 unpeeled garlic cloves, crushed with back of spoon
• A squirt of tomato puree
• A handful of cherry tomatoes
• A spoon of brown sugar
• Tsp of smoked paprika

Fry the onion, garlic and potatoes in oil until golden. Add paprika, tomoatoes, sugar and seasoning. Cook for another 5-10 mins.


Oh, and we had salad, olives, and manchego on the table too. Phew.

Felt pretty relieved that I'd got a bit of red wine left over. Made some sangria for N and myself and a sangria look alike grape juice plus orange cocktail for the kids. It's rather telling that it's only the sangria which is in focus in the picture above!

THE REACTION
In the midst of the others' angst, the Middle one just chunked his way through the smoky chicken (possibly because it was on a skewer and therefore had pretty high novelty factor), the salad (though we haven't moved out of the sliced cucumber, carrot and pepper type salad stage in our house) and even the beans and the potatoes, though they were both covered in tomato which he normally never touches. The Youngest really did make such a fuss that he had to be removed from the table. And then ended up on N's lap eating off N's plate. So although he did eat quite a lot, and tried new things, it wasn't exactly without pain and struggle. Not what you might call a triumph. And the Eldest, did calm down and got stuck in, even trying the cannellini beans, though I think she would have preferred a second smoky quorn fillet.

I have a theory: the 3 of them were playing on two DS consoles right up until tea time. This means a) grumpiness when I am trying to prise them away because the dinner's ready and b) that they're disengaged from the process enough to not really Get Into the Swing of Things. So, no dressing up, no videos of matadors, though we did have some rather sedate Spanish guitar music playing. It was about as much as I could do to get them to sing our usual grace in its original Spanish... but I guess this is something.

Bendice, Senor, neustro pain.
Y da pain a los que tienen hambre,
Y hambre de justica a los que tienen,
Bendice, Senor, neustro pain.

(Argentinian in origin, which translates as 'God bless to us this bread. And give bread to all those who are hungry, and hunger for justice to those who are fed. God bless to us this bread'.)

THE VERDICT

• Mr Middle: When asked initially he did rather curl up his nose, but when pushed he had to admit that he'd quite like the beans, the potatoes, the chicken and the apple from the chorizo.
• Youngest: Didn't get much in the way of coherent appraisal out of him today. It was as much as I could do to get some kind of agreement out of him that he won't kick off again like that next week. Mind you we had such a triumph of food eating delights yesterday I should probably still be celebrating. I might even have to write a separate post to mark the occasion.
• Eldest: I was a bit disappointed that I couldn't dress up. But the food was good.

PUDDING
I am delighted to report the presence of blood oranges still in our lovely local Chatsworth Road greengrocer. So, what better than a boiled blood orange cake? This is from a lovely little book I picked up second hand called Make, Bake and Celebrate by Sarah Rowden and Joanna Vestey. It takes you through the year suggesting crafty activities and feasts to make which are connected with seasonal festivities. This is mentioned as a great cake for Passover as it has no raising agent in it. But then it lists 'baking powder' as an ingredient. Did I miss something?? Anyway, tastes great.

• 2 large oranges
• 6 eggs
• 225g ground almonds
• 225g caster sugar
• 1 tsp baking powder

Boil the oranges, whole, in water until really soft and let them cool in the water. Blend the whole thing in a blender and put in a mixing bowl. Add all the other ingredients and mix well. Pour into a lined cake tin and cook at 200C for 20-30 mins - until the cake feels springy. I made it in muffin moulds and it needs less time in this case.

OTHER RELEVANT LEARNING

• The DS* (other handheld devices are available) is a curse sent to try mothers. I want to embrace my kids' engagement with technology. But it seems to mess with their heads. And we're not talking shoot 'em up games here. Zelda and Professor Whatchamacallit is all we have in the DS cupboard. They just go a bit weird for a bit after they've been using them.
• Bullfighting is weird. It's got to be up there with fox hunting as the joint winner for most bizarre spectacle of unnatural violence masquerading as high culture with deep symbolical and ceremonial overtones. More manly and, I guess for me at least, more exotic. But still weird.
• Cooking with this much garlic makes one male member of our family do the most incredibly smelly farts.
• Pear cider seems to be as good a stand-in for sherry vinegar as any.
• Chorizo smells absolutely delicious when it's cooking.

Cantonese Chicken (aka Sweet and Sour)

Although it's not true to say that we've never attempted Chinese cuisine in our house before, on the very rare occasions I have wheeled it out it has never gone down that well.

In fact when I mentioned to the Eldest a few days ago that we would be visiting China this week her immediate reaction (and this is the adventurous child remember!) was 'I hate sweet and sour'.

So it was with some trepidation that I spent nearly the whole bloomin' day today preparing what could only be described as sweet and sour, but which I, at my most cunning, called Cantonese Chicken. On one of the several shopping trips which I made to get everything (I wonder if I just don't think it through carefully enough because I know I can get pretty much anything I'll ever need at the corner shop) I was even quite tempted by the packet of Mono Sodium Glutamate I found amongst the other, rather more bona fide, spices they stocked. I thought if it's hooked the majority of this country's population on the food that passes for Chinese in restaurants up and down the land, it ought to work on 3 under-travelled kids.

However, I kept my nerve - even when I couldn't really find a recipe that suited. The Internet is a gourmand's delight but I still reach for the dog-eared recipe books first. And it was all a bit 1970s to be honest. I was looking for a pretty straight sweet and sour type recipe which would be good enough to prevent me reaching for the jar of Mr Bens but palatable enough for 3 fussy children.

I ended up with a right royal recipe mash-up. A bit of Slater, a bit of Leith, with a good slug of supermarket magazine clippings thrown in. 


THE DISH

'Cantonese Chicken' - ie a mash-up of sweet and sour recipes - thanks to Asda, Somerfield, and Prue Leith.

• 150g long grain brown or white rice
• half a fresh pineapple (or 227g can)
• 1tbsp cornflour
• 3tbsp tomato ketchup
• 4 tbsp dark soy sauce
• 1tbsp vegetable oil
• 2 tbsp medium dry sherry and/or cider vinegar (I added both, making sure that no child spotted the alcohol this time)
• 3 chicken breasts (+ 1 quorn fillet for the vegetarian daughter)
• 1 spring onion, thinly sliced
• 1 red or yellow pepper, deseeded and cut into chunks
• 1 carrot, sliced
• small pack mini sweetcorn
• a handful of unsalted cashews
• Ground black pepper

Get everything chopped and ready. Heat the oil, sear the meat for a few mins. Add the veg and cook for a few mins more - with the spring onions last. Add more or less sweet or sour components to taste.

Broccoli and bean sprout chow mein

(another mash up based mostly on a Nigel Slater recipe with another nod to Prue)

• 100g Chinese egg noodles
• 4 tbsp sesame oil (though I used sunflower oil because I absolutely refuse to pay £7.50 for sesame oil in the deli. C'mon Remy, what are you thinking??)
• 1 small onion, diced
• small knob fresh ginger finely sliced
• 2 cloves garlic, diced
• handful broccoli florets (I added mange tout as well)
• 2 handfuls beanshoots
• 2 spring onions, sliced
• 3 tbps dark soy sauce 

Cook the noodles for 2-3 mins in boiling salted water. Drain and toss in oil. In remaining oil fry the onion, garlic and ginger 2-3 mins until they soften. Add the broccoli (and mange tout) to stri fry for a couple of mins. Tip in the noodles, then the bean sprouts, add the spring onions, soy sauce and fry it all up, keeping it all moving in the pan for another 3 mins.


THE REACTION

Mr Middle was so hungry he dived into the veg chow mein as it hit his plate, not quite ready for the heady mix of garlic, bean sprouts and ginger. Yeuk! he said. The Youngest even stomped out of the door having looked at his plate and declared he would be sad because he would have to go to bed hungry, and was only brought around by the patient tending of Dad encouraging him to try first the cashew nuts, then the pineapple. Goodness there's not a moment goes by I don't thank my lucky stars I'm not doing this all on my own. The Eldest seemed persuaded that this was not 'sweet and sour' until the end of the meal, when I came clean, (though she seemed a bit suspicious of the pineapple) so at least she was on board. But I think I've either got to dish up a bit earlier in the evening or work on the initial reaction phase. But, to be honest, they all loved the dragon dancing we found on You Tube; made paper Chinese lanterns (above) and even dressed up (the daughter swanned about with chopsticks in her hair for much of the meal!) which is as much Getting Into the Swing of Things as I think you can ask for.


THE VERDICT
They did actually all tuck in and eat loads more than I would have anticipated. I thought we might be eating chow mein for a week but we finished it off.

• Middle - "Kind of liked it. I liked the chicken. Didn't like the noodles. Best part of main course was the pineapple. Also loved using chopsticks."
• Eldest - "Pretty good but didn't really like the bean sprouts. Didn't really like the taste of the noodles either. But liked the coconut pancakes.  I wish I was an only child then I would be a great Olympic swimmer."
• Youngest - "This is the best pudding ever! Kind of good and kind of bad for the rest. I liked the pineapple."
• Husband - "Delicious. You are a marvel etc etc." I never quite know if he's serious or not.

PUDDING

OK, so this is a cheat too. I think I'm just not going to get through these Travelling Tuesdays without quite a lot of cheating to keep me sane. I did look at some genuine Chinese desserts, but didn't fancy 'mung bean curd' or 'sticky rice squares' myself really. I found this at least on the Asian section of a swanky ipad app which N likes flicking through (Cookbook). It's one of the few recipes you get before you have to pay for anything. (Some people might call this tight. I call it Good Housekeeping).

Coconut and pineapple pancakes
serves 4:

• 140 g/5 oz plain flour
• 2 tbsp caster sugar
• 2 eggs
• 400 ml/14 fl oz coconut milk

Mix together like regular pancakes. Makes a nice thick batter - enough for 9-10 pancakes.

To serve:

• 1 medium pineapple
• groundnut oil, for frying
• toasted coconut, to decorate
• canned coconut cream, to serve - I couldn't find this so I sprinkled on icing sugar instead.

OTHER RELEVANT LEARNING

• The dawning realisation that you don't have either a) cousins or b) aunties or uncles in a State enforcing a one child policy. Never really thought about it before. But just makes it seem even more weird.  
• It's currently the Year of the Dragon, and will be, come Chinese New Year on Sunday 10th Feb, the year of the Snake. I share the Year of the Dog with the Youngest, for our birth year, whilst N shares the Year of the Monkey with the Middle. And the Daughter is terribly pleased to remind us that she was born in the Year of the Horse. 
• Origami dragons are tricky and need proper origami paper really.

Five dive into a Fondue

 This week is Fondue. It's a cheat and I know it. I know they will all eat bread and cheese. It is not exactly 'expanding the repetoire'. But, hey, after last week's debacle I needed to deliver something everyone would be keen on.

We watch a cute clip from a site which must be sponsored by the Swiss government about traditional folk dancing which thrives in the mountains in summer. The kids run upstairs to find their red gear and transform themselves into Swiss flags. We find some rather plinky plonky accordian music on the internet. I did mean to get the laptop set up with some holiday pictures because we've actually been to Switzerland as a family. We've even been to the Gruyere cheese factory - and the (ahem, Nestle) chocolate factory. But I didn't quite make that happen. 

It was at least (sort of) all 'one-pot' today. And, apart from nervous moments about whether or not such a large amount of cheese is actually going to dissolve into such a small amount of wine, easy to cook.

Swiss cheese fondue

Ingredients

• 1 clove garlic, halved
• 350ml dry white wine, such as Sauvignon Blanc
• 300g Gruyère cheese, grated
• 300g Emmental cheese, grated
• 3 tsp cornflour
• 2-3 tbsp Kirsch
• Freshly ground black pepper
• (I used a bit of Comte cheese as we didn't have enough Gruyere)

• To serve
• 1 large baguette, cut into bite-sized cubes
• A variety of uncooked vegetables, chopped up.

Method

1. Rub the cut side of the garlic clove around the inside of your fondue pot. Discard the garlic.
2. Add the wine and bring it to the boil on a medium heat on the stove. Turn the heat down and add the cheese in handfuls, stirring until it melts.
3. Mix the cornflour with the Kirsch, and stir into the cheese. Cook for 2-3 minutes, stirring, until it is thick and creamy, then remove from the heat. Add pepper to taste.
4. Fondue should have a smooth, thick-sauce texture. If it is too thin, add more cheese, or stir in a little more cornflour, blended with wine. If it's too thick, stir in warmed white wine. If the fondue separates, keep stirring and it should recover. If not, add a squeeze of lemon juice or a teaspoon of cornflour dissolved in wine.

Move the pot to a burner on the table. Stirring often to keep the fondue smooth, spear the bread on fondue forks and dunk into the cheese.



REACTION
All good. Well, actually they didn't know what a 'fondue' was (though we've shared one with the big cousins once) and there were some upturned noses at the smell, Mr Middle was appalled at the fact I was pouring wine in the saucepan and the Youngest said 'Is this it?' referring the plate of cut raw veg. But Middle's face lit up when he realised the long thin skewers were to be the only cutlery and then he declared it was just like cheese on toast and we were on the home straight. We reminisced about holidays and talked about Swiss bankers and got a little sidetracked by Hitler when we mentioned that Switzerland was neutral during WW2. (N and I are rapidly being exposed as parents Who Do Not Know Very Much About Anything!).

THE VERDICT

• Middle: I liked it because it was just veg and fruit.
• Eldest: I loved the chocolate (see later - dessert).
• Youngest: I loved the food because you can dip it into the chocolate and cheese.
• Me: I loved the fact I managed to hide the fact we were also having a chocolate fondue (is it a Swiss thing at all - I doubt it!) and so the kids thought we were just having chopped fruit. Ye hay!

PUDDING
Why is fresh fruit dipped into melted chocolate sooooooooooo yummy? I don't think we got to the bottom of this conundrum. We were a bit busy stuffing our faces to talk at all at this point. And incredibly all too full in the end to scrape the last of the chocolate sauce up. Though Youngest had a pretty good go at cleaning his plate!

OTHER RELEVANT LEARNING

• Have more chocolate for pudding.
• Do yodelling next time.
• Don't show them the wine you're adding to their meals.
• Avoid cuisines heavy on bread and cheese if I am actually going to teach them anything.

A friend texted to say that her Lovely J had liked the idea of Travelling Tuesdays so much they were going to try it at home. While we were in Switzerland, mirroring the snowy weather outside our own front door, they were swanning around Jamaica trying to escape it. I even heard that the two coconut-hating boys in that household ate all their West Indian Coconut and Apple cake... And if that's not a good advert for putting a little effort in on a school night, I don't know what is!

Hecho en Mexico!

Oops - only the second week in and we've slipped a day. Last week the Eldest, realising the lovely J had a party on Tuesday the following week, declared with passion "You can't do it next Tuesday as I won't be here!"

You can't disappoint such keen-ness so Wednesday it was. And I think the mental note is stick to Tuesdays. I don't go to work on a Tuesday so have more time/energy, prior to the kids rolling in, to prepare. This time was not so well thought through, executed or received, to be totally honest.

There was no rolling around on the floor or screaming, which was a nice improvement, mostly because we were travelling to Mexico and there isn't a six year old alive who doesn't like taco shells. However I can't escape the fact that in a total of 4 weeks travelling to a variety of places in Mexico I never once saw taco shells. Maybe we didn't travel tonight to Mexico at all. Maybe it was Texas?

It was still rather lovely, though, to get out our photo albums (remember them?) of our two fabulous trips to that wonderful place - so wonderful that our friend declared it to be her ideal holiday destination: sun, sea, friendly people, delicious food, and abundant cheap markets. The younger kids were a bit taken aback when the Eldest declared "Isn't that where you had sex to make me??" Glad at least one bit of her story has sunken in!

Yes, it is with much fondness we look back on one of those trips (!) and we even chose her name to have a resonance with the Spanish language. And even though she rather worringly announced this morning that she hoped she might find a way to 'skive off Spanish' (yikes.. she's only in year 6. I am not yet prepared for such views on a good rounded education!) I still hope she might one day return to see the place of her origins.

It even felt like a bit of a cheat, all this 'Mexican' food because it's not exactly new to us. Our lovely lodgers, David and Eden, often made tacos for us last summer. But I did push the boat out a bit, making 'frijoles' (refried beans) though I know that none of the kids like pulses of any sort. And (double cheat) they weren't even really Mexican frijoles because I didn't have any pinto beans in the cupboard. All I had was butter beans and a recipe for 'Burmese butter bean mash' from the Guardian's recent all new Cook section of their Saturday paper. I left out the chilli flakes and fish sauce and mixed in the topping and mash altogether, squeezing a lime all over it in the hope of bringing it a rather more Central American flavour than Asian subcontinent! 

For the mash

• 400g tin butter beans
• 1 tsp sesame oil
• 1 tsp fish sauce
• 1 tbsp lemon juice
• Dash of light soy sauce
• 1 tsp chilli flakes (optional)

For the topping

• 2 tbsp groundnut oil
• 2 garlic cloves, crushed
• 1 shallot, thinly sliced

THE DISH (with stars to denote something not really ever experienced by me in any authentic Mexican meal)
*Frijoles (as above)
*Mexican mince (just fried with onions and garlic and 'taco' seasoning out of the packet
*Heuves (eggs)
*Taco shells
*Fried potatoes (because I had some to use up)
*Chopped carrot and cucumber (because I know the kids will eat these)
*Guacamole
*Tomato salsa (I can't believe I am admitting this but this was a Dorito dip)
*Sour cream
* Grated cheese
Salad

So, it's good to know we were authentic on one aspect of the meal at least! To be honest though I can't remember eating rocket and the strange looking salad leaves we get in our organic veg bag in Mexico either. And yes, of course guacamole is an iconic Mexican dish, but any we were ever given in Mexico (and I actually can only remember having it once in a rather Americanized fast food place) burnt your mouth out with the amount of chilli in it. Ditto with the eggs.

THE REACTION
General pickiness rather clouded this worldly adventure. Youngest had a taco shell full of tomato ketchup and would not, for love nor money, try the tomato salsa (even with the Dorito branding). Only the Eldest would get the frijoles anywhere near her mouth (and she didn't like it even though she's a 'pescatarian' and really should embrace pulses for her own good). Basically they mostly ate taco shells with egg, cheese, carrot, cucumber and fried potato in. Pretty rounded diet, actually, but not exactly embracing Mexican food. Maybe Chicken Mole would have been better instead - the kids liked the sound of trying chicken stew made with chocolate sauce! The Eldest was still terribly keen and put her Aztec outfit on - one that she made herself for an assembly at school (I was pretty impressed I have to say).

THE VERDICT
The meal descended so much into a fight about who wouldn't try what that I forgot even to ask them for an official verdict. I might try and revisit this. Who knows - in the gap of several days since they ate it they may even give it a more favourable verdict! But it did rather mean we didn't spend as long as I would have liked talking more about the place. We did mention the Wall and the problems Mexicans face trying to find a better future and the difficulties for families who's loved ones leave for the 'North'. But I never even got to tell the story of Sylvia and Eriberto - the baker and his wife with whom we sat one hot sunny day in their dusty courtyard outside their shack dwelling in Huicholes, one of the poorest areas on the outskirts of Mexico City. As we left these inspirational community leaders they gave us a present (why is it that the poorest of the world are so generous in their gift giving?) of an embroidered tortilla cloth which Sylvia had hand sewn. That was in 1997. I still have it and use it to keep the roast chicken warm on a Sunday while it 'rests' - but it was nice to use it for its original purpose!

OTHER RELEVANT LEARNING

• Don't attempt these adventures when there is less than 2 hours to prepare/eat.
• Stop writing such long posts.
• I'm a one-pot girl at heart. All these countries where you have to lay out 16 different dishes! Goodness.
• Photographing food is not as easy as it appears (is it Mark Kensett?!).
• Sort out the photo issue. (There is a long running Mac vs PC battle in our house and I have been caught in the middle whereby my technology doesn't talk to each other. It could get nasty if I can't sort it out soon).

**LATE UPDATE
When I asked the kids about a week after the Mexico event what they thought of the food they all declared 'We loved it'. Which just goes to show you... When pushed the Middle one said "I loved it. But the guacamole and refried beans I hated." And the Eldest said "I was blown away at what mum had put out on the table". And she's right - these cuisines with many dishes spreading before you do look rather more impressive than a one pot wonder. She must take after her Dad (the flamboyant bit of the cookery department in our household).

The Middle East with Ketchup

After some dithering I setttled on a generic 'Middle East' as our first port of call. This is because I have always loved the mix of meat and fruit especially if there are nuts to be sprinkled on top too. We have occasionally had a 'turkey and apricot bake' stumble into our weekly repertoire but it is usually greeted with dismay. As the majority of my working life is spent thinking about Palestine and Israel it felt the right place to start. I would happily eat my way through Claudia Rosen's Middle Eastern Cookery but Makloub looked pretty tricky and anyway most recipes are so complicated you have to practically kill the chicken yourself. The much slimmer Arab-Israeli Cook Book (Robin Soans) has nice stories but I couldn't get excited about the food. I'm happy to put a bit of extra effort but I don't want to cook for 2 hours only to struggle to convince anyone to eat it. A quick google search lifted a simplified 'Middle Eastern' style dish, which I should think no person of Middle Eastern heritage would even recognise. 

Before long a wonderful smell was wafting around the kitchen and the humous, pitta bread, and pickled veg was on the table.

The Eldest was busy trying to find a Middle Eastern grace for dinner and I was trying to hunt down a beautiful CD of Palestinian folk music. The boys were a bit disappointed that I had set out a fork but delighted to see no knives accompanying them - if a fork and spoon is good enough in the West Bank it was good enough for us for our pretend Palestinian meal. I was rather lamenting the fact that we gave away our broken 'nargile' (hookah) but maybe I should not be resorting to narcotic substances in this experiment to improve my children's diet.


THE DISH

Persian chicken with apricots and saffron  

• 1 pint of chicken stock

• 12 strands of saffron

• 1 large onion

• 1 oz butter

• 1 tablespoon of olive oil

• 1 teaspoon of ground cinnamon

• 4 chicken breasts on bone

• 4 oz dried apricots halves

• 1 oz sultanas

• 2 ox almonds

• Salt and pepper

1. Bring the chicken stock to the boil. Stir in saffron and simmer for a few minutes. Meanwhile chop the onion and add to melted butter and olive oil in a medium heated pan.

2. Once softened, add cinnamon and after heating through, place the mixture on to a plate.

3. Using the hot pan add the chicken breasts and brown them. Return the onion mixtures along with apricots, sultanas, almonds and black pepper, before pouring over the saffron and chicken stock. Boil up then reduce to simmer for 50 minutes.

The recipe adds, ominously at the bottom of the page: Please note this recipe has not been tested professionally. Like the Come Dine With Me contestants, you could be creating a culinary delight or dining disaster.

That's 'reality TV' for you. Finding a cliff hanger in a pot of stew. Well, sorry to break it to you guys, but this recipe has now been professionally tested by two Class A fussy eaters and one nearly 11 year old vegetarian and I am happy to tell you it is a culinary delight.

THE REACTION

It was not all plain sailing. The Youngest (aged 6) gets extremely grumpy when he is hungry and will quite regularly roll around on the floor when he finds out what's for dinner crying 'I HATE xxx'. I have noticed that this is usually avoided if he has hors d'oeuvres aka a bit of something in his tummy before the actual meal begins. So the humous came in handy when the rolling ritual began. Not that he likes humous, natch', but the pitta bread went down a treat. Middle is happy with a chicken bone so no complaints from that quarter and the Eldest had already run upstairs to pull on the ancient, authentic Middle Eastern (could be Syrian thanks to Farmor's childhood there) embroidered frock from our dressing up box. We turned the bad YouTube recording of some Dabke dance up to 'tinny-loud like it's coming from a West Bank bus radio' and tucked in. 

THE VERDICT

• Youngest: First I liked it then I loved it! (I had to remind him that actually first of all he complained a great deal).
• Mum: I love the mix of meat and fruit. The Youngest agrees. But then I realise the boys have tomato ketchup on their plates. Who snuck the ketchup out without asking??? In my desperation for my culinary experiment to work I pretend not to mind too much. 

A great spin off from the eating itself was the conversation. Plenty of interest around saffron (which I mistakenly told them was more expensive than gold.. Middle one says 'Then how can you afford to use it?' Good point.) and that they might be eating something similar in Syria ('Though not at the moment as they're in a war'). I loved the fact that we talked about the fact that most of their Muslim friends would be able to understand the Arabic spoken in these 'Middle Eastern' countries and that we had a mini geography lesson too, needing, obviously, to find out exactly where 'Persia' is ... and the fact we couldn't find it on a map should have lead into a mini geo-political lecture from me about (probably?) colonialism, world domination and the changing nature of language and borders. That one was a bit beyond me to be honest.

PUDDING

• Eldest: Loved it! We listened to Arabic music. Apart from the raisins and apricots this was an ideal veggie meal! (Thank the Lord for Quorn fillets and the fact she doens't mind if I cook it in with the meat).
• Middle: It's brilliant I would give it 10 out of 10.

I don't pretend to be organised enough for pudding most nights of the week. But in the wonderful MFR veg shop on Chatsworth Road I had spotted the new season's blood oranges. Simply cut on a plate they were not only easy to deliver (phew) but beautiful, delicious and a taste of sunshine.

The Middle One says 'Can we go to India next week? I can't wait to go to India.' He 'hates' curry but I think he's heard they mostly eat with their fingers in India. But cynicism aside our first Travelling Tuesday truly felt like a total triumph. I cannot tell you how miraculous it felt getting Youngest to eat such a meal - not just with minimum fuss but with active and positive engagement. Curry next week? Bring it on...