Day: oh whatever...am leaving....

Ok, have been remiss of late.  Since this Slummy Mummy has decided to leave the UAE for the moment, I have been too distracted to write about the experiment although I have been sticking to plan (sort of).  DH and I had a smoothie in the mall today and four year old boy insisted on MacDonalds -- I'm talking jumped up and down on the spot and insisted.  I gave in.

Why did I do it?  Well, I recently read a very interesting article which stated that research has proven that it's not so much what you exclude from your diet which determines health, but rather what you include -- meaning if you are going to eat a MacDonalds happy meal, you can off-set it by having a smoothie as an accompaniment.

I use the same logic with drinking -- OK, so I might drink too much wine, but I drink far too much freshly squeezed orange juice too.  By my reckoning I'm cancelling one out with the other.  One attacks the liver, the other one helps it, meaning my liver is never left alone and is at once being attacked and then rehabilitated.  It's not so much as an internal organ as an extra child, the one I mistreat and dislike, but spend my life trying to make amends  for my lack of love. Amen.

Day 20: Jamie's fish pie

This recipe is just perfect for me since, unlike the other fish pie I made, this one doesn't require that you make a sauce -- you just throw everything together in a dish and cover with mashed potatoes and place in the oven.  And like everything else in life, I 'followed' the recipe in the very loosest sense of the word, using the ingredients I had, rejecting the stuff I didn't have, and adding anything extra I had lying around in the fridge.  


The result was almost perfect, but next time, personally, I would add cream to the mix, as Jamie suggests, since it was a little dry and ever so slightly bland.  The children were underwhelmed, but again, this was mainly due to the fact that I had fed them too late (will I ever learn?)


DH hardly commented on the meal since he was stuck to the laptop (which was placed on the dining table beside his plate)  trying to find the England v Ireland rugby match for the 6 nations... I may as well have given him a pot noodle for all the notice he took -- that combined with the children's indifference made me feel the entire meal was a waste of time and money (the ingredients were pretty expensive actually) and I sat there miserably, sipping at my wine glass (yes, yes, I know...again!) wishing I'd left it for another day.


The project needs an injection of excitement this week, as I feel it has fallen flat, both for me and the children.  They have become less interested in pleasing me and I haven't mentioned Australia in ages -- must reintroduce that threat this week.


For the record, I didn't have celery but had some chickpeas sitting in the fridge doing nothing, so I threw those in.  I used salmon fillets and smoked mackerel and crab sticks.

Jamie's fish pie
• sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 1kg potatoes
• 1 carrot
• 2 sticks of celery
• 150g good Cheddar cheese
• 1 lemon
• ½ a fresh red chilli
• 4 sprigs of fresh flat-leaf parsley
• 300g salmon fillets, skin off and bones removed
• 300g undyed smoked haddock fillets, skin off and bones removed
• 125g king prawns, raw, peeled
• olive oil
• optional: a good handful of spinach, chopped
• optional: a couple of ripe tomatoes, quartered
main courses | serves 4 - 6 
This is a fantastically simple fish pie which doesn’t involve poaching the fish or making a tedious white sauce. Loads of good, fragrant veg are added quickly by grating them in. You can use whatever fish you like, making this as luxurious as you want it to be. If you like your fish pie to be creamy, feel free to add a few tablespoons of crème fraîche to the fish.
PS Some of the supermarkets now offer lovely packs of different fish and shellfish for using in fish pies. Keep a look-out, and if you buy one you want it to be about 700–750g in weight for this recipe.

To prepare your fish pie
• Preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F/gas 6 and bring a large pan of salted water to the boil
• Peel the potatoes and cut into 2cm chunks
• Once the water is boiling, add your potatoes and cook for around 12 minutes, until soft (you can stick your knife into them to check)
• Meanwhile, get yourself a deep baking tray or earthenware dish and stand a box grater in it
• Peel the carrot
• Grate the celery, carrot and Cheddar on the coarse side of the grater
• Use the fine side of the grater to grate the zest from the lemon
• Finely grate or chop your chilli
• Finely chop the parsley leaves and stalks and add these to the tray
To cook and serve your fish pie
• Cut the salmon and smoked haddock into bite-size chunks and add to the tray with the prawns
• Squeeze over the juice from the zested lemon (no pips please!), drizzle with olive oil and add a good pinch of salt and pepper
• If you want to add any spinach or tomatoes, do it now
• Mix everything together really well
• By now your potatoes should be cooked, so drain them in a colander and return them to the pan
• Drizzle with a couple of good lugs of olive oil and add a pinch of salt and pepper
• Mash until nice and smooth, then spread evenly over the top of the fish and grated veg
• Place in the preheated oven for around 40 minutes, or until cooked through, crispy and golden on top
• Serve piping hot with tomato ketchup, baked beans, steamed veg or a lovely green salad

Day 19: Hair of the dog wurzel pizza

So, having bought all the ingredients for Jamie's fish pie, I got home and decided I couldn't be bothered, besides, nobody would appreciate it today.

And so, arriving in from Spinney's with a bag of ingredients, I inspected the cupboards to see what else I might make that would require almost zero effort before I hit on the brilliant idea of pizza made from Wurzel bread (love that name, I only buy it cos it makes me think of Wurzel Gummidge 'Ooh Aunt Thally, a cup of tea and a thlice of cake!)

Opening a bottle of wine, I carefully filled a glass before slicing the Wurzel loaf lengthways.  Taking a cautious sip, I spread tomato passata over the loaf.  Taking another sip, I then sprinkled Emmental  over it.

Taking a big swig now, I placed the makeshift pizza on a baking tray and placed it in the oven.

Pouring another glass, I waited ten minutes until the pizza was bubbling.  I then searched for an oven glove, but alas, there was none.  Using a hand towel from the bathroom, I removed the baking tray.  Taking a sip, I attempted to slice up the wurzel pizza -- burning my fingers, I decided to wait a minute before trying again.  

Becoming impatient, I sliced it anyway before placing the slices on a plate, I then sprinkled them with torn up parsley leaves.  Another sip et voila! The children and DH wolfed them down leaving me to suspect that I might in fact be the new Keith Floyd...

Wurzel pizza and a hair of the dog glass of vino...just call me Keith!

Day 19: Treats aren't always bad

I have been slack this week -- we've still been sticking pretty much to the program, but I haven't made an effort to introduce anything new. This is due to the mid-week illness among other distractions.

Yesterday being Saint Patrick's day AND Charity day at school meant exceptional circumstances: The children had some jelly and a cupcakes at Charity day, which was not too bad considering the usual abandon which would rein during such an event.  After that, we headed to the mall where they had fish and chips -- again, it was an unusual day and anything is permitted in moderation.

In the evening we headed up to the Sailing Club in RAK where the children had 7 ups and crisps and mummy had several glasses of white wine and a Black Russian!  Yum, but ouch my head today!

It is important to allow these treats and dropping of standards occasionally to avoid becomming obsessive and  militant about what your child eats.  Nobody wants their kid to to be the lone figure at the birthday party nibbling on a carrot stick packed by mummy because they don't eat 'junk' -- not only does it alienate the child but makes a silent judgement on everyone else who do allow these treats. We all know someone who is fanatical about what their child eats, to the point of being anti-social, but who hold no such fanaticism about what they themselves eat and in fact are often overweight.

Anyway, there's not much chance of that happening, certainly not once they have a say in the matter since I know that should nine-year-old girl fancy a treat, she merely disappears out with her pals and goes to Starbucks for a slice of that insanely good peanut butter chocolate mudslide cake that they stock at the moment (when we were kids a 10p mix was a treat!)

At the time of writing, I don't know what I might tackle for dinner later -- I shall take a wander around Spinney's for inspiration and report back later.

Day 17: Finally, the sneaky chef!

Well, I finally got to try one of my 'sneaky chef' recipes.  To explain the concept; the recipes are based around a few 'make-ahead' purees in various colours -- purple puree, green puree etc... which are made up of superfoods such as blueberries, spinach, carrots etc..; you then 'sneak' these purees into the recipes and they are virtually undetectable in the dish, a great way to get children to eat food they'd otherwise reject out of hand.

Tonight I made spaghetti bolognaise with 'green puree' *(recipe below) sneaked in.

Anyway, the children eyed it suspiciously before nine-year-old girl pronounced - 'Oh this is spaghetti bolognaise' and then went on to eat the whole lot!  This is very impressive because nothing on earth would persuade her to eat spinach given the choice.

The boys made a decent stab at it although weren't that hungry since they'd had strawberry and banana smoothies after getting in from school followed by turkey rolls before heading off to the mall so that I could do some shopping and they could knacker themselves out in the soft play area.  Oh, sorry I meant - so that they could develop their gross and fine motor skills while playing in a fun and safe environment!  Yes, whatever; call it what you want; but it works!

Nine-year-old girl went off to play with her friend and confided later on that when her friend offered her chocolate milk at her house, she accepted it but said it didn't feel so good to drink it any more.  Now, I'm keenly aware that it is her birthday next week and she is on her very best behaviour and is going out of her way to curry favour at present, but none-the-less, I felt she she was genuine and was indeed beginning to feel differently about food.  We shall see...


Make Ahead Green Puree  (from thesneakychef.com) 

Makes about 2 cups of puree This recipe makes about 2 cups of puree; double it if you want to store another 2 cups. It will keep in the refrigerator for up to 3 days, or you can freeze 1/4-cup portions in sealed plastic bags or small plastic containers.

- 2 cups raw baby spinach leaves*
- 2 cups broccoli florets, fresh or frozen
- 1 cup sweet green peas, frozen
- 2 to 3 tablespoons water 

(for the record, I used just spinach, green pepper and parsley as that is all I had...I don't think it matters too much what you use as long as it's the right colour)

*note: I prefer raw baby spinach to frozen spinach for this recipe (more mild flavor); if you must use frozen spinach, only use 1 cup of it.


> If using raw spinach, thoroughly wash it, even if the package says "prewashed."

> To prepare on the stovetop, pour about 2 inches of water into a pot with a tight-fitting lid. Put a vegetable steamer basket into the pot, add the spinach and broccoli, and steam for about 10 minutes, until very tender. Add the frozen peas to the basket for the last 2 minutes of steaming. Drain.

> To prepare in the microwave, place the broccoli and spinach in a microwave-safe bowl, cover with water, and microwave on high for 8 to 10 minutes, until very tender. Add peas for last 2 minutes of cooking. Drain.

> Place the vegetables in the bowl of your food processor along with 2 tablespoons of water. Puree on high until as smooth as possible. Stop occasionally to push the contents to the bottom. If necessary, use another tablespoon of water to smooth out the puree.

Day 16: Malady strikes the experiment

You may have noticed, dear reader, that the experiment ground to halt yesterday, seeing no postings at all.  And no, contrary to what you may think, I wasn't busy peddling my Unofficial cookbook for the girl with the dragon tattoo (they weren't interested), but was in fact tragically ill with a vague condition, the symptoms of which involved feeling too nauseous to eat (a sip of water confirmed that it was indeed a bad idea), being very hot and then very cold, and just wanting to lie on the sofa all day and sleep.

It is times like these that I'm grateful I don't have a proper job, as spending a day in this manner would be impossible otherwise.

And no, this has nothing to do with fertility, baby was suffering the same malady and in fact, still is today, and a couple of the others are complaining of tummy aches.

The effect on the experiment was such that when the children came in from school, they had no option but to finish the leftovers from their lunch-boxes and then wait for their father to land in with Cheese Maneesh in the early evening, while I drifted in and out of consciousness.

Today we're not much better...I've still only managed to cautiously chew some dried papaya and pineapple and am dubious about the steak which lies waiting for me in the fridge.  My previous enthusiasm for the smoothie maker has been temporarily halted and at present the children are eating peanut butter sandwiches.

I'm hoping to make an attempt at proper cooking later, when DH makes an appearance, but until then shall dish out juices when requested but other than that, hope they stay upstairs playing Playstation and that the baby sleeps as much as I'd like to.

Please, tips and recipes below....am getting a little disheartened by the whole process...(and I think nine-year-old girl is sneaking off to the mall with her pals for clandestine donought and ice-cream eating).

It's a set back, but every cloud delivers a silver lining -- and this is no exception -- since I have most definitely lost several pounds over the last 36 hours which is all that matters once the memory of fatigue and nausea has faded.

Day 14: Harry Potter and the lazy cookery book

We've hit a plateau: the children are tiring of the project and I'm fed up having to cajole them every step of the way: this evening saw all four of them take a few bites of the chicken satay with rice, before leaving it behind them (eight-year-old boy requested a ham sandwich at bed time).  Realising I needed to up my game, I decided to seek out some kiddie-friendly recipes that might inspire the children and myself.  I came across a cookbook entitled 'The Unofficial Harry Potter Cookbook' which describes itself as 'more than 150 magical recipes for wizards and non-wizards alike' (talk about trying to cover all bases), with accompanying website.  Seizing upon it as a possible way to invigorate the project, I clicked on the link entitled 'recipes'.

Oh what a con!  The recipes were a miserable list of winter favourites with the odd Harry Potter reference thrown into the title for good measure.  Such as, Aunt Petunias fruitcake (which is basically fruitcake) or Hagrid's Fruitcake (ditto...how lazy is that??) along with a handful of other recipes which don't even pretend to have any connection with HP at all, such as French Onion soup or Beef and Guinness stew!  Talk about cashing in on a cash cow!  Glad I didn't bother to buy the book!  

This got me thinking, perhaps I'll have a go myself: 'The Unofficial Twilight Cookbook' perhaps? Nope, beaten to it by 'Love at first bite: The Unofficial Twilight Cook Book' which includes incredibly imaginative and genuinely terrifying vampire recipes such as 'Jacob Black's grilled cheese sandwich' (woooo!), and 'Tuna sandwich' (Ooooh, I'll never sleep again!)

Would you buy this book?

But I think I've hit on it -- how about 'The Unofficial Girl with the dragon tattoo cookbook'?  It could contain recipes such as 'Lisbeth's Gravlax' or 'Blomkvist's Smorgastarta' and cup after endless cup of ‘Erika Berger’s Coffee’!  Hmmm, forget about the kids, I think I’m on to something!  Now, to find a publisher…..

Day 14: Notes on kitchens

I miss my kitchen in Ireland.  It was a labour of love and the result of months and years of obsessively scouring 'Country Homes and interiors', 'Country living', 'Beautiful kitchens' and 'Ideal Home' magazines for inspiration on what might be my 'dream kitchen'.  Utterly convinced of what I wanted, but unwilling to pay the inflated  prices being asked in Ireland, I commissioned a hand-painted, distressed, wooden kitchen from somewhere in Derby (I found it on ebay).

On a cold winters morning, sometime in November 2006, me, DH and our then one-year-old (who is now six-year-old boy) headed off on the ferry to Liverpool in a rented long-wheel-base-van, to collect it.

We met the kitchen-maker in an Ikea car park in Warrington, where we transferred the units into the back of the van, and then headed back to the ferry which was due to depart in three hours.  Eight hours later, as we drove around a small village in Wales, with one-year-old yelling in his chair between us, we were followed into a cul-de-sac by a lilting Welsh policeman who kindly asked where we were going.  We finally made it to the ferry, three crossings later...

Similarly, my pillar box red fridge was bought from a company in Germany over ebay since it worked out half the price for the same item in Ireland.

The dining table was painted cream and distressed, with two large benches either side for the kids.  I had a beautiful large hand-painted dresser filled with little bits of pretty china and decorative biscuit tins.

The overall effect was very pretty in a shabby-chic way and I loved it and I'm now beginning to recall that I actually cooked in it, in fact, I did everything in it and spent many happy hours sitting at the kitchen table, reading the paper, chatting with friends over coffee and drinking red wine with DH into the wee small hours.

Which brings me to the purpose of this eulogy about my kitchen: I think that kitchens here in the UAE have something to do with the demise of my enthusiasm for cooking.  Kitchens here are ugly and small since they are the preserve of the maids and staff; functional, not decorative.

Our first kitchen in Al Ain was dingy, dark and ugly, with flimsy plastic cupboards and harsh strip-lighting and almost immediately on moving in, my interest in cooking began to wain. In fact, I actively hated being in it and would shuffle in to the fridge to refill my wine glass but other than that, avoided it at all costs.

The kitchen here in RAK is better, but it's still not very attractive.  I really believe that you have to feel comfortable and happy in your kitchen if you are to spend any time in there.  In my opinion, a kitchen should be the heart of a home, where the family come together to eat, chat, socialise and, it has been known, to dance!

In the UAE, houses are built around the public areas where guests are entertained: either in large hallways/reception rooms or living rooms.  Staff shuffle in and out from the kitchen (which is sometimes an outhouse to the back of the house) bearing trays and teapots.

While this truth may hamper my experiment, it won't defeat it.  After all, the kitchen here in RAK is bearable, but I do pine for my lovely kitchen which, sadly, never felt quite perfect during the three years I lived there and I was always seeking ways to improve it -- just goes to show that we're never satisfied with what we have.....

In this..........? (which is a bit like my kitchen in Ireland)

Where would you rather cook?

Or this................? (RAK kitchen)

Day 14: Snacks and wisdom...

Just a quick note for this morning.  Yesterday on the way to Mirdif we stopped at the petrol station for drinks and snacks.  Usually this means 4 bags of Cheetoh's (which smell like trainers worn without socks!) and strawberry milk.  As I climbed out of the car amid a squabble of voices shouting their requests, I decided to ignore them and see if we could do 'healthy' out of ADNOC.  I emerged minutes later with flavoured water and packets of dried fruits and nuts, pistachios and peanuts.

I was met with shouts of dismay and refusal, but they were soon happily tucking in.  I could almost call it a success except for the fact that four-year-old boy threw up all over himself minutes later (always charming although his neighbouring brother wasn't quite so impressed!); although I don't think it had anything to do with the snacks.

In the mall I caved and allowed the two eldest to have pizza, but the younger two happily shared a pasta dish.

On the way home we got caught up in the mother of all traffic jams due to a crash in Sharjah.  For forty minutes we watched ambulances, vehicle recovery trucks and police cars race up to the scene ahead of us (and six-year-old boy peeing into a bottle, much to his joy).  This is not an usual thing here of course, where driving is outrageously dangerous and where many nationalities don't wear seat belts.

As the car crawled along at a snails pace, my daughter commented on the car beside us which saw the parents strapped in the front but the children free and roaming around in the back.  'Look at that, mum' she said 'that is very bad parenting'.  And in a sudden moment of sagacity, I said 'yes, and that would be the same as if me and dad ate poached salmon and spinach for dinner while you lot ate happy meals....it would mean I wasn't taking proper care of you'.

She mulled over this for a moment and I felt I had imparted some profound wisdom to her.  'Can I have a chocolate brioche?'


Ah well....

Day 13: Hangover korma

Yesterday was a hangover day meaning I had zero interest in cooking so I ordered a takeaway from the Rupee room.  Knowing how fussy they are, I ordered chicken korma's for the children, along with boiled rice and garlic naan breads.  Nine-year-old girl saw the food being delivered and asked 'what did you order?'  'Indian' I replied.  'Then I'm not eating it' she spat and stomped out of the room.

'Is it pizza?' asked four-year-old boy.  'No, it's yummy rice and sauce' I told him.  'Then I'm not eating it!' he lisped.

'Everyone come and sit down and eat' I shouted.  They grudgingly obeyed.  Nine-year-old girl screwed up her face and tasted the korma.  'Yummy!' she declared and minutes later was asking for seconds.

Four-year-old boy flatly refused to taste his food, despite threats, bribes, promises, tears and raised voices.  Eventually I managed to get him to agree to just taste a tiny dot on his tongue which resulted in him declaring 'ooooh it's delicious' and eating half of what was in his bowl.

Korma is always a winner, although personally it's so bland I can't see the point.

I shall shortly head to Carrefour to do some shopping for the week.  RAK Carrefour is so utterly awful, particularly at the weekends when it is filled with hoards of single men who visit it with the express reason of staring at ladeeees, that I'm heading into Mirdif in Dubai instead (and perhaps a little retail therapy and a nice cup of coffee...ah, who am I kidding?  I will have five children with me....)

Day 12: A triumph!

Well, dear reader, the Meatloaf was, if I may make so bold, a triumph, leaving me to now suspect I am somewhat of a culinary genius.

DH arrived in from work to find me flushed and busy working on my masterpiece; wearing a floral shift dress (Boden) and an apron decorated with cupcakes.  It wasn't deliberate, but I did suddenly realise I was morphing into a 50's housewife.

Apart from my lack of Worcestershire sauce and oregano (for which I substituted garlic/chilli sauce and parsley)  rosemary sprigs, paprika, and vinegar, I had all the ingredients and even tried to follow the directions.

DH was practically moved to tears as he ate, begging: 'please cook like this all the time', perhaps  he should marry Jamie.....

The children were less impressed (as before, dinner was served too late and they were tired and wound-up, a bad combination) and took a lot of threats and cajoling to get them to eat (four-year-old boy would only eat the mash potatoes).

Jamie's Meatloaf
(the ingredients and instructions are very precise because I've cut and pasted from his website.  As you can imagine, nothing was measured or weighed by me, I just vaguely followed the instructions and it worked a treat)

ingredients

• 1 onion, finely chopped
• Olive oil
• 1 tsp ground cumin
• 1 heaped tsp ground coriander
• 12 Jacob’s cream crackers
• 2 tsp dried oregano
• 2 heaped tsp dijon mustard
• 500g good-quality minced beef
• 1 large egg
• 2 fresh rosemary sprigs, leaves picked
• 12 slices of smoked bacon or pancetta
• 1 lemon, cut into wedges
Tomato sauce
• 1 onion, chopped into 1cm pieces
• Olive oil
• 2 garlic cloves, sliced
• ½–1 red chilli (to taste), finely sliced
• 1 tsp smoked paprika
• 2 tbsp worcestershire sauce
• 1 x 400g tin of chickpeas, drained
• 2 x 400g tins of chopped tomatoes
• 2 tbsp balsamic vinegar

main courses | serves 4–6
1. Preheat the oven to full whack. Place the onion in a large frying pan over a medium-high heat with 2 glugs of olive oil and season. Add the cumin and coriander and fry, stirring every 30 seconds, for around 7 minutes or until softened and lightly golden. Remove to a large bowl to cool.
2. Wrap the crackers in a tea towel and smash up until fine, breaking any big bits with your hands. Add to the bowl of onion with the oregano, mustard and minced beef. Crack in the egg and add a really good pinch of salt and pepper. With clean hands, scrunch and mix up well.
3. Move the meat mixture to a board, then pat and mould it into a large, rugby-ball shape and rub over a little oil. You can either cook it now or put it on a plate, cover, and refrigerate until needed. If cooking now, place the meatloaf in a casserole-type pan or baking dish, put it in the preheated oven then immediately reduce the temperature to 200C/gas 6 and cook for half an hour.
4. Meanwhile, for the sauce, place the onion in a large frying pan on a medium-high heat with 2 glugs of olive oil and a pinch of salt and pepper. Add the garlic, chilli and paprika and cook for around 7 minutes, stirring every 30 seconds, until softened and lightly golden. Add the worcestershire sauce, chickpeas, tomatoes and balsamic vinegar, bring to the boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for 10 minutes. Taste the sauce and season if needed.
5. To finish and serve your meatloaf, put the rosemary leaves in a bowl. Remove the meatloaf from the oven and pour all the fat from the pan over the rosemary, mixing well. Spoon your sauce around the meatloaf, lay the slices of bacon or pancetta over the top and scatter over the rosemary leaves. Put the pan back in the oven for 10–15 minutes, until the bacon turns golden and the sauce is bubbling and delicious. Serve with a mixed leaf salad and lemon wedges for squeezing over to add a nice sharp twang.

Jamie's

Mine (OK, so the dish is burnt, but still...)

Day 11: Still winning....

DH sat up until midnight improving on my poor attempts at the Cat in a Hat hat.  It was worth it, nine -year-old girl won first-prize in her class for her costume. Aladdin won first place too (and in a moment of inspiration, some time after midnight, we replaced the real dagger with a cardboard copy and placed it in the sheath; six-year-old boy was most disappointed but I like to think we cleverly avoided an international incident with that decision), and my Revolting Roman was pretty revolted that his teachers refused to acknowledge the brilliance of his costume. Costumes we can do, food is trickier.

However, the blueberry, banana and orange juice smoothies went down pretty well today, accompanied by round upon lip-smacking round of cheese maneesh.  The smoothies are effectively knocking everything else out of the water since as long as they drink these we're half-way, nutritionally speaking, to success .  Mind you, nine-year-old girl looked at me levelly as I handed hers to her this afternoon and muttered 'there's yoghurt in it'.  'What do you mean?' I asked, wide-eyed and innocent.  Rolling her eyes she turned back to the laptop which had this blog page up.  I must remember that she is every bit as nosy as I am and then some...

As I type, the frozen minced-beef is sitting on the side in the kitchen trying it's hardest to de-frost -- I forgot to put it out earlier -- so Meatloaf may be a bit late taking to the stage for this evenings performance.

Although, nine-year-old girl and eight-year-old boy disappeared to the mall today, returning with sweets and in all probability, bellies full of Baskin Robbins ice-cream.  Well, it's Thursday (weekend) and frankly it was nice for them to be out so that the others could settle down in front of Disney's Aladdin so that six-year-old boy could acquaint himself with his alter ego since he had no idea who he was supposed to be when asked at school today.

Shall report on the meatloaf later....

Day 10: Giant chicken nuggets and Aladdin's shoes...

Smoothies again when they arrived in from school.  Famished coming in the door, they normally fall on brioche, biscuits and carton after revolting carton of flavoured milk (something that we used to buy by the dozen every day but which I haven't bought in a week) like a swarm of hungry locusts.

However, I find that having the blender at the ready (which is now earning it's keep despite it's dramatic nativity) with a variety of fresh, frozen and tinned fruit on stand by, along with a pot of natural yoghurt (which I have to keep hidden from the view of my nine-year-old girl who would refuse to let me put it in if she knew), keeps them busy and satiated until dinner time.

They select their preferred ingredients, then help me load up the jug and off we whiz!  This really is a fantastic way to get them to eat their five-a-day each day (it just involves asking nine-year-old girl to fetch me something at the crucial moment so that I can bung in the yoghurt without her seeing it).

Later, I baked some chicken breasts in breadcrumbs in the oven (selling it to them as 'giant chicken nuggets') and mashed up some potatoes.  Also, with the help of six-year-old boy, I mashed up some baby carrots too: I thought it might be an easier way to get them to eat them, although I don't think it quite worked.  Still, it can be used for a soup at a later date.  They all ate pretty well, four-year-old boy his usual fussy self ate only a little bit but it's still a vast improvement to a baby's bottle and a chocolate chip cookie.

Later, as a treat, and to make up for such a disappointing Pancake Day, we went down to Cafe Shakespeare (which I love) for pancakes (kids) and cappuccini (me and DH).

I bought a copy of Jamie Oliver's food magazine 'Jamie',although at 45 dirhams I can't say it was worth it.  A magazine addict, I bought it with the intention of gathering recipes and tips, but it was a little disappointing and besides, I got rather side-tracked by an article about cider-making.  Still, I got a recipe  for Meatloaf (not the ageing rock star) which I intend to make for tomorrow evening.

For now though, I must turn my thoughts to finishing our costumes for 'Book Day', that great bastion of competitive parenting where merely dressing them up in whatever costume you have to hand (Spiderman, Tinkerbell) however tempting, is rather missing the point since it must be a book character, what with being 'Book day' and all.

This year we have Cat in a Hat (nine-year-old girl), Revolting Roman as in Horrible Histories (eight-year-old boy) and Aladdin (six-year-old boy).  That last one was decided in a split second as we wandered around the mall at 7pm looking for green hair paint so he could be the Grinch.  Passing one of those over-priced shops selling souvenirs and carpets, my eye fell on a pair of those tradional Arabic shoes with the curled-up toes, (causing me to scan my mental rolodex for an Arabic book character: of course!  Aladdin!) which we bought along with a little lamp and a dagger (not sure how his teacher will feel about this last item actually--think I'll ask DH to super-glue the dagger inside it's sheath).

So off I trundle to finish making a Cat in a hat hat, which strangely enough is preferable to getting uniforms ready.

Aladdin's gear (I know, nothing to do with food)

Day 10: Smoothie-making

Because of the crashing failure of Pancake Tuesday, I neglected to mention yesterday that we also made smoothies.  Of all the advice I have received from my expat sisters on Abu Dhabi Woman for this experiment, one thing that comes up constantly is the need to include the children in the process of meal-making: along with the sense of ownership over the food, which comes with being hands-on in the kitchen, also comes an obligation to at least try some of it.

Making smoothies is fun for kids-- it's an inexact science, you just throw stuff into the blender and whiz it around.  But into the process you're getting them to eat all kinds of things that they would never touch normally.

We made: Stawberry and Banana smoothies

Bag of frozen strawberries
1 banana
a good slug of pure orange juice
3 big spoons of natural yoghurt
squeeze of honey

Whiz it about for a minute and serve.  The boys loved it, and I even mixed some into five-month-old's boring cereal mush for dinner and he was ecstatic!  Nine-year-old girl refused to touch it since there was a banana in it.

Day 9: Pancake mix is a good idea...

 I thought pancakes would be easy to make.  As I wandered around Spinneys I chose to ignore the ready-made pancake mix thinking, 'ridiculous waste of money -- how difficult could it be?'

Well, quite difficult it turns out, 6 eggs, 2 litres of milk and god knows how much flour later.

The children arrived in from school excited at the idea of pancakes for supper.  I had bought ham and cheese in order to make savoury pancakes, and a bottle of chocolate sauce as a treat for the dessert pancakes to follow.

Whisking up the pancake mix (although I think that might be quite an optimistic description of it now, all things considered) I heated up my heavy-based frying-pan and sizzled some butter in it.  Pouring in the mix I watched it bubble and solidify but the second I touched it with the spatula, it fell apart like scrambled eggs.  'Well, the first one never works' I cheerfully told myself' as I scraped it into the bin and started again.  Same result.  And again.  Same result.  I tried changing the heat, altering the ratio of ingredients, but nothing worked.  Just a big rubbery mess in the bin and no pancakes.

We had baked potatoes with cheese and ham for dinner, but it was a miserable little meal and everyone went to bed rather cross.

What they should have looked like

What they actually looked like

Day 8: SM gets over-ambitious with a Salmon Teriyaki with rice

Feeling ambitious tonight, just as a stock-take of what we've achieved, I decided to introduce many new flavours this evening to see how the gang coped. What I used (taken from Annabel Karmel's website, and made approximate since I didn't weigh or measure anything...) 80 ml (3fl oz) soy sauce 100 ml (4 fl oz) sake (Japanese rice wine) I didn't have this... 50 ml (2fl oz) mirin (sweet Japanese cooking wine) or this.... 2 tbsp caster sugar (or this...used brown sugar and honey) 2X large thick fillets of salmon, skinned Olive oil  button mushrooms, sliced 200g beansprouts red peppers asparagus spears (my own addition) baby sweetcorns (ditto) finely sliced onions 200 g basmati rice What I did? Boiled the rice and threw everything else together in a pan. The children pretty much ate it -- even four-year-old boy, mainly because nine-year-old girl was in disgrace and he saw a way of getting ahead on the league table.  They asked questions and quibbled a bit, but ultimately all did a pretty good job of trying everything and at least two plates were almost cleared entirely. DH arrived in from work early so I took the opportunity to zip to the shops (via the Cellar -- I know, I know, it's only Monday, but in English that means Tuesday, which is nearly mid-week!) but I felt a little deserving having fallen over this morning, with the baby in my arms--not drunk I might add--it was too early for that: I slipped in the pool of water left by four-year-old after his bath. My children aren't big on finding towels following baths (and being a bad house-wife, there are rarely towels in the bathrooms...), preferring to dry themselves au naturelle, something which will cease instantly the second they hit Irish soil (and more to the point, air) once more. Tomorrow I promise I will make the sneaky chef purees....

Day 8: Shame and loathing in Carrefour...

So, off I marched into Carrefour, full of self-righteous defiance; ready for a fight. Handing over the box containing the offending blender, I thrust the receipt up on to the counter for good measure in order to leave the young man in Customer Service in no doubt that I was not someone to be trifled with.

Not wanting to appear too anxious, I nonchalantly examined my nails as he pulled the blender jug, base and various other accessories out of the box and assembled them.  As I glanced up to express my disdain at their inferior product, I was dismayed to see the blender whizzing away merrily while he stared at me as if I was stupidest woman he'd ever encountered, his co-workers sniggering away behind him.

I didn't put the lid on properly.

Not knowing where to look, I shoved the box back into it's bag and mumbled 'thanks' before fleeing the scene of my shame and humiliation.  The worse thing is, this isn't the first time I've taken a blender back to the shop because I hadn't put it together correctly and therefore couldn't get it to work. Having strapped five-month-old and four-year-old boy back into the car, I jerked the bag containing the blender out of the bottom of the buggy; the blender came flying out of the box and hit the tarmac, sending little crystals of plastic shards flying as it landed.  'Oh bloody hell!'  I spat, 'the sneaky chef is the devils work!! '

So the blender is damaged but thankfully is working.

Feeling rebellious, I sliced up a chocolate cake for the children as they arrived in from school.  A friend had given it to me and I thought it churlish to refuse.  I do have to be careful of not leaning too far in the other direction: I have a tendency to go to extremes whenever I decide to do something and besides,a slice of chocolate cake is no harm in moderation.

Salmon for dinner, although I haven't decided what to do with it yet... I should be whizzing up my vegetable purees at this stage, but I feel a little hostile towards the blender and the sneaky chef at the moment, and need some time to adjust.  I think I shall sit down now and watch 'Cat in a hat' with four-year-old boy.

Day 7: A broken blender and four-year-old boy strikes again...

Well I did better than just a blender, I also purchases a hand-held blender along with four melamine plates although kiddie cutlery was not to be found in Carrefour (other than the baby fork and spoon variety).  Unfortunately the big blender didn't work when I got it home.  Oh joy, trying to explain to them in Carrefour tomorrow that I want another one -- and not the same one I bought today since it is clearly inferior--is going to be an exercise in resigned futility.   I find myself going into customer service situations in the UAE with a heavy heart and a defensive attitude as I just know it won't be straightforward and in all probability they will require my birth certificate and a urine sample before allowing me to make the exchange.

Anyway, when the children got in from school I had a big pot of vegetable soup waiting for them, thrown together from last nights uneaten vegetables (of which there were many).  Added in was some garlic, parsley and scallions and served with thick slices of wholemeal bread and butter, they all tucked in hungrily-- even four year old boy, who ladled two spoons into his mouth before announcing: 'it's delicious mama' and then got down from the table and toddled off to play the wii.  'Come back here and finish your soup' I demanded.  'No thanks, I'm not hungry any more' he replied, over his shoulder. I suppose I should be grateful he even tried it... 

Later on I did a simple stir-fry of chicken, red peppers and mushrooms.  They all made a good attempt at eating it with the exception of (sigh) four-year-old boy who ate a chunk of chicken then once again, got up and left the table.

I'm sure stronger parents than I would say 'well, I'd make him come back and finish it' but he's very strong willed and quite simply would be immune to my attempts at persuasion.

They had a treat of ice-cream with a tin of tropical fruit for dessert...I know tinned fruit has syrup in it, but just getting them to eat the fruit at all would be a challenge.  The two older boys made a good effort, nine-year-old girl whipped the bowl of ice cream out from under me as I was ladling  the fruit into the bowls, and sprinted out of the kitchen, making me very cross indeed, and four-year-old boy ate one spoon of ice cream before once more leaving the table.  I think I need to strap him into a giant highchair although as they say: 'you can bring a horse to water.....'

Tomorrow I shall return the blender and, if I make it out of there with a replacement, will begin my covert attack on four-year-old boy with my sneaky chef recipes and a new set of bribes since the cash prize holds little attraction to him.

Day 7: Dealing with a fussy four-year-old

So, as I said yesterday, four-year-old boy is becoming a problem.  Initially stirred by the new experiment, he happily joined in eating his broccoli and chicken. However, now he's realised this new regime is here to stay, he's rebelling.

Yesterday he ate nothing at all but just drank milk.  He should be as skinny as a rake but he's not, he's a very chubby little guy.  The problem starts from breakfast since he refuses to eat cereal at all and will only occasionally nibble at a slice of toast.  As I type he's drinking a Danao (it's got fruit and milk in it) and ignoring some bread and honey which I placed in front of him while he watches 'Cat in a hat'. Again..

A friend recommended a website and book range called 'The sneaky chef' which is based around the idea of pureeing vegetables and fruits and sneaking them into food that way.  And while the whole point of this experiment was to get the children to want to eat veggies and to make healthy choices, I can see that with four-year-old boy, I'm going to have to do some outmaneuvering with him.

And so today will see me doing a little shopping for the project: I do like buying things for new projects although more often than not those items will sit in the cupboard, untouched, for ever more.  I once decided grandly that I would take up running.  I've never run in my life, but I liked the idea of going for long solitary runs at dawn. However, before I ran a step, I decided I would need some professional trainers, some fetching running pants and one of those little tops with a bra inside of it. Once all these things had been gathered, I prepared for my run.  After a bit of a warm-up, I headed out.  Five minutes later I returned looking like I was having an asthma attack, thus ending my running career before it had even began.  I still have those trainers somewhere....

However, the shopping list today is quite necessary.  A food-blender is the first item.  Also three-quarter sized plates (they either use their plastic bowls or massive dinner plates, neither of which are appropriate) as well as cutlery for little hands ( knife and fork, as opposed to just a small fork).

Also, I need some inspiration as to what to feed four-year-old boy for breakfast. Any tips or advice, please post below!

Does this child look malnourished to you?

Day 6: A meal too late

Lunch went well, just ham rolls again, of which they ate several each, except four-year-old boy who is starting to rebel slightly.  He announced he didn't like the ham, so I replaced it with a different one, then he said he didn't like butter, so I gave him a plain roll.  Then he announced he actually wasn't hungry at all and went and sat down on the sofa to watch 'Cat in a hat'.  Personality-wise he's always been closer to nine-year-old girl and this is starting to become pretty apparent.

For dinner I decided to serve Jamie Olivers roast beef with vegetables (not literally, that would be hugely inconvenient and I'm not sure how he'd feel about it either) which included pumpkin, whole garlic cloves, baby carrots, dried apricots (which burned in the oven (the apricots that is)...my bad idea, not Jamie's) and fresh parsley, drizzled with olive oil.  In addition there were roasted potatoes and cauliflower.

I'd run out of gravy so had to improvise with vegetarian gravy and an oxo cube (two ingredients which surely were never intended to be combined).

The problem with the meal was that I didn't get in from the dentist until 7pm meaning that dinner wasn't ready until 8.30 which was problematic since the children should be at least half way to bed at that stage.

Six-year-old boy, normally the most experimental of the lot, was too tired to eat very much and left most of his food behind him.  Unusually, nine-year-old girl made the biggest effort, gagging as she tasted the cauliflower, but taste it she did.

But I must explain the reasoning behind her sudden compliance:  Over dinner I introduced a little wager into the experiment, to make it more interesting and to provide the children with an incentive. Namely; league tables.

Each day they would be placed either first, second, third or fourth in two separate categories:  Willingness to try new things and volume consumed; and table manners.

The winner of the former category would profit to the tune of 200 dirhams after a month, the latter to the tune of 100 dirhams, with a smaller prize for second place also.  This had an immediate effect on nine-year-old girl, who instantly started to eat without complaint while trying to look 'posh' in order to secure both prizes (no doubt with the express intention of spending the entire prize on crap in Claire's)

Lessons learned today?  Competition is good (regardless of what they think in school) and dinner needs to be served before 7pm.

Day 6: Falling off the wagon....

OK, so I have a confession to make: Yesterday we collectively fell off the proverbial wagon.  You see, following the wonderous and magical family meal at the mall earlier, which practically left me in tears at the realisation that I was on the road to salvation, we were too full to think about eating anything substantial for dinner.  I had bought the children a tent in Carrefour so they were busy gathering sleeping bags and torches so that they could camp out for the whole night and had little or no interest in eating.  Then, at about 7pm somebody suggested ice-creams in the tent and I must admit I complied.  Then nine year old girl noticed a tube of Pringles in the cupboard (left over from the babysitter the night before) and so supper suddenly became Pringles and ice-cream. 

It was a small slip-up but since I was curled up with my laptop and a bottle of wine, I really couldn't bring myself to care enough to insist they ate a balanced meal before settling down for a hard nights camping outside the French doors.  By 9pm four-year-old boy and eight-year-old boy had had enough of nine-year old girl's bossiness and came inside again to watch American Idol (they're smart enough to know that my earlier insistance that they go to bed begins to diminish the further I get through the bottle of wine and by 10pm I'm actively insisting they cuddle up beside me on the sofa).

This morning the hardened campers arrived in hungry from their nights endeavours and settled down in front of sugar free puffed wheat (her) with honey (no argument at all) and oatmeal (him), which she remarked looked like babyfood resulting in his refusal to eat it (she has an annoying habit of telling them that what they're about to eat resembles something they hate meaning they won't touch it...it's a constant argument in the house).

Later I shall cook something substantial, following a recipe, but only after I've visited the dentist to have some fillings refilled (another kind legacy from  years of dieting and binging-- a mouth full of fillings!) Joy!

Day 5: A surprising development...

This experiment is having some unexpected results.  Initially I started it purely to get the children to eat a wider variety of foods and to improve their table manners.

However, as each change is implemented, another need presents itself: It started with the sudden dawning that I was sending them off to school each day full of nutritionally barren, sugar-coated breakfast cereals, which I've now replaced with Weetabix and Readybrek.  Next it occurred that the contents of their lunch boxes needed revisiting.

Then today, since DH and myself are hungover from a fantastic night out in Dubai last night, we decided to go into Manar mall in RAK for a smoothie.  Normally when DH and I have a smoothie, the children opt for a Sprite, but today I decided everyone would have a smoothie.  Dazzled by the huge amount of flavours on offer, they made their choices and we sat down.   Then we decided we were a bit hungry.  Again, normally that means McDonald's for them and Lebanese for me and DH but today I ordered Lebanese for everyone.  Unimpressed by this decision, they complained for a moment but were soon munching away at their cheese maneeshes, fried halloumi and kibbeh as well as cucumber and shish tawook.

It was gratifying to watch but what really struck me was the harmony at the table, the chat between the children and ourselves.  Usually we sit at one table and they sit at the next one, but since I knew I'd need to coax them to eat, I pushed two tables together and we all sat round as a family.  The contrast between this amicable meal of good food and happy children, to the usual chaos that ensues as they fling their McDonalds around, fight and jump out of their seats constantly, was striking.  This experiment is having a much wider effect than I thought.

Afterwards we did a shop in Carrefour.  Again, usually this for me is a joyless experience as I throw things randomly into the trolley with little or no thought for what meals I might make with them.  I think this has been some sort of coping mechanism that developed in response to my recovery from the eating disorder I suffered when I was younger: My earlier fascination with food and cookery was replaced with disdain and indifference so that I didn't have to engage too keenly with my former enemy.

But as I pushed the trolley around, I found myself considering what I would do with the products I picked up and feeling satisfied that I was doing the best for my family.  I engaged the children in earnest conversation about what fruit and vegetables they might like to try and they eagerly responded.

At the check-out I usually give in to their requests for a packet of sweets or a bar of chocolate or a fizzy drink, but this time I refused and bought them freshly squeezed juices or flavoured waters, which they accepted without much of a struggle.

I must now go and peruse my Nigella cookbook to decide what to make this evening....

Day 4: Ordering-in and nine year old girl's struggle for power

So today we faced another out-of-the-ordinary meal since I'm going out for the night (who doesn't know this at this stage??) and didn't want to cook, so we ordered-in.

I ordered spaghetti bolognaise for the kids, from a lebenese/Italian (?) place in the mall.  Don't get me wrong, it's not like they've never eaten spag bol, it's just that normally when we order-in we order pizza.  The boys were happy enough although nine year old girl complained that it wasn't pizza.  Innately truculent, it's not so much the food of the new regime that she objects to, but rather the power that I've retrieved.  Being the only two women in the house there is a constant power struggle between us and often she wins.  In this instant I've said 'I don't care if you don't like what I'm feeding you, I won't give in'. This is causing problems.

I set the pattern early, I see that now.  As a baby I had plans to feed her organic spinach and bottle-fed spring lamb, strawberries from the garden and organic yoghurt.  Of course, once I landed back down on earth I realised that what was on offer was cow&gate baby jars, which seemed just as good.  However, heating up a jar of Lancashire-hot-pot, I found myself gagging at the smell.  As I attempted to feed her it quickly became apparent she felt the same way and spat it right back at me.

I tried various other flavours, parsnip, carrot, potato and leek, but with the same result until I gave in and fed her what she preferred: Petit filous and apple puree.  And that's how it's continued.

Tomorrow I shall be tracking down some healthy snack foods to replace the mandatory cheetos or kit kats they ask for while out (and to clarify, I don't keep crisps, sweets or fizzy drinks in the house, but they have these things when we go out all the time -- it's often a matter of trying to pacify them in the supermarket queue  where I'm constantly asked 'mum, can I have this?')

Oh, and the weetabix went down well again this morning and they all ate their lunches no problem.  I'm beginning to feel I just wasn't trying hard enough up to this point -- like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, the answer was in my own back yard all along, I just didn't know where to look (you get the analogy, right?)!

Day 4: Tackling the lunch boxes one box at a time...

So today I decided to take one step towards tackling the school lunch boxes.

I live with the daily fear of Jamie Oliver deciding to arrive to the UAE, camera crew in tow, to tackle the eating habits of the kids here.  They would descend on RAKESS and sniff out six year old boy immediately as he sat forlornly, Toy story lunch box open, revealing its pathetic and nutritonally barren contents and lambast me as the worst mother in the UAE.

To be honest, he generally has the best lunch since he is willing to eat a peanut butter sandwich: Eight year old boys lunch-box contains precisely two chocolate brioche, two flavoured milks, two fruit juices and one packet of Walkers Sun bites wholegrain snacks (a stab at being healthy).  Nine year old girl's is similar without the flavoured milk.

In other words, crap.  So today we started tentative steps in improving lunchtime in the guise of a fresh floury roll with wafer thin turkey ham and butter.

The most surprising thing about this experiment so far is the ease with which the boys have taken to the new diet.  Considering how inflexible they've been in the past, it's amazing how keen they are to change, once we've established that this is an adventure into food (and a means of getting to Australia!)

Over breakfast I gave them a progress update report and informed them that soon we would be tackling regular snacks -- instead of chocolate and crisps as a treat, we're going to try new fruits and dried fruits such as banana chips: 'Ooh, I think I'll like those' piped up eight year old boy, 'Euwww' grimaced nine year old girl.

Day 3: Al Hamra food court

Of course, part of the challenge is to teach them to make wise choices while eating out too.  Following a day steeped in UAE bureaucracy at it's best, I couldn't face cooking this evening so off we headed for the food court.  Al Hamra food court is a large and bleak affair, frequented by few customers but with a large community of staff who seem to be there purely to sit back and watch the pantomime which is our family, whenever we visit.

Without discussion, the children will always opt for New York Fries with hot dogs.  Today I explained that while we were going to food court, we were going to eat something completely different to usual.  Apart from nine year old girl who, predictably, threw a strop and announced she wasn't eating at all, the boys took this news with  good grace and agreed that they would order something that came with rice.

Resistant nine year old girl ordered sweet and sour chicken with rice and the boys ordered butter chicken and a little side salad.  I didn't hold out much hope for the side salad but with great aplomb, they made a good stab at eating it and when I asked eight year old boy if his food was nice he announced 'no mum, not nice, but excellent!' which made me very happy.  He then went on to add 'I know why we have to do this, it's because of Australia, isn't it?"


I suddenly remembered a little fib I'd told him a week or so ago about how, if we wanted to move to Australia (which we do), we would all have to pass a test in manners and eating habits.  I told him that because Australia had been originally populated by prisoners, they had become sniffy about who moved there these days and so insisted that only the very best people were allowed in.  I elaborated by telling him that once you arrived at the airport, you were taken into a room where you had to eat in front of an examiner who would decide your fate.  You left by one of two doors: Red door, FAIL, and you were sent back on the next available flight: Green door, PASS, welcome to Australia!

I'll say anything to get them to behave.

Anyway, they did a pretty good job at eating all this, four year old boy (the one who used to have a bottle of milk for dinner) even asked for more rice!

I'm pretty happy with how this is all going so far and my only regret is that I left it so long to tackle what was obviously a growing problem years ago.  

Day 3: An attempt at Weetabix

Well strictly speaking this blog was to document evening meals, but I thought I'd add in this mornings attempt at improving their diets.

Normally they eat breakfast cereal which can only be described as 'confection', but as I wandered around Spinneys last night I found myself about to pick up a box of sugar-coated sugar snacks and thought 'hang on, I'm trying to improve their diets here, so why on earth would I buy this?'  I searched the shelves for an alternative until my eyes fell on a box of Weetabix: 'Ah yes, that's exactly the thing!'

This morning, six dubious eyes watched me open the packet and fill their bowls.  Adding in milk and honey they fell to the job of eating them.  Within 30 seconds eight year old boy was asking for more -- SUCCESS!

Naturally, nine year old girl resisted, gagged and complained but ate them all the same. Six year old boy asked for more although he didn't get to finish them as the bus arrived.

This experiment is going well.....

Day 2: Fishermans pie with baby carrots

So I am trying to get them to warm to the idea of eating fish: It ain't easy.  After a disasterous breaded fish incident last week, I decided to make it less obvious by making a 'fishermans pie' this evening.  It's a simple affair, in theory, but actually I used three pans which left me somewhat dismayed since I despise washing up and don't have a dishwasher.

I used:

• potatoes- sliced for a gratin and par-boiled
• tin of pink salmon (OK,OK, I could have used fresh salmon but have you seen the price of it?)
• a bag of frozen white fish
• small tin of sweetcorn
• fried spanish onion
• garlic
• cheese sauce: cheddar, flour, milk, mustard, butter
• salt and pepper (and some chili powder..nobody noticed) to taste
• a bag of baby carrots for the side

What I did with them

Blended the fish, onions, garlic and sauce and topped it all off with the gratin potatoes

Ten minutes in the oven --well, forty minutes on a really low heat as I had to collect my son from a birthday party, and then decided to have a quick look around Centrepoint with him since DH came home early from work and was supposedly looking after the rest of them-- (he wasn't, he was asleep on my bed the whole time I was gone according to my daughter who took charge of the baby)

Did they eat it? 

In short, yes although my daughter seems to be rebelling against the new regime more than the younger ones, who are lapping up the new 'grown up food' adventure.  She whined yesterday 'why can't we eat what we used to eat?' as she is obviously feeling quite threatened by this new regime.  'Because it's time to think about what goes into our body' I told her, meaning 'because otherwise you are all going to end up dough-people who can't tell a broccoli spear from an asparagus and who never get asked out for a second date'.

We've all had that experience of eating out with a new beau only to be appalled at what they order and left wanting to retch at the sight of his/her masticated meal-- like a washing machine with a window doing a spin-- and ultimately realising that  frankly there was no future in the relationship.  I shudder at the thought of someone sitting opposite my child some day thinking 'He's just ordered a plate of plain pasta! I'm outa here after this!'.

I once went out with a guy I thought was smart, funny and interesting:  All was going well until he took me out for dinner and thought that, during dessert, it would be funny to flick his dessert into my face with his spoon.

I did not find this funny.

-'But all my girlfriends think that's hysterical' he protested.

-'Not me you idiot!' I hissed as I made my way to the exit....

My point is, along with a wider variety of food comes a more sophisticated approach to eating.  My own history of food has left me a little cynical about the art and act of eating and it has passed down to my kids: It's descended into a necessary evil rather than an act to be enjoyed and savoured.

Boy number two is without doubt the most experimental and actually feels its a badge of honour to be the first one to try a new flavour which has a favourable domino affect since as soon as one of them tries something new and professes it to be 'good', the next one gives it a go and so on....

More tomorrow...

Day 1: The experiment explained

I've recently realised that if my children were what they ate, they would be the human manifestation of Happy meals.  This isn't something I am proud of, but over time I've sort of given up trying to get them to eat properly; And eating out has become impossible.

In Ireland we used to order what was called a 'baby bowl' or 'baby dinner' for them (and not just for babies...my five year old would eat it too) which was basically a  bowl of mashed potatoes and vegetables with soup or gravy poured over the top, the kids loved it.  In the UAE this sort of thing isn't on offer so we've sort of fallen into a routine of ordering random and chips everywhere we go.  

The result has been children that cower at the sight of a vegetable and refuse anything that hasn't been processed within an inch of its life.

At home it's not much better:  We've fallen into a routine which sees at least one meal in Burger King each week, hot dogs once a week (with the reasoning that sausage = protein, roll = carbs-- pathetic, I know) with the occasional pasta with pesto sauce '(what's that green leaf in it??' they will whine, 'It's the bloomin' pesto!') or a frozen pizza or sometimes a home made pizza on arabic bread.  Nowhere in any of this does a vegetable even raise its head.

And four year old boy has taken to drinking a babies bottle of milk rather than eating at all, a situation which I've allowed to continue rather than wasting my time dishing up food he refuses to eat anyway.

And so, following a disasterous meal out with all of them recently, where they squabbled, fussed, picked at their food and shot up and down out of their seats every three seconds, circling the table and generally being bad-mannered, I despaired to DH 'they are bloody animals, nobody will ever love them if they eat like this!'

When I was a child mealtimes were a sombre affair: I was expected to eat everything on my plate and my mother certainly didn't pander to my childish palate; I ate the same as the grown ups and not only that, but using grown up cutlery, crockery and plates.

By contrast, my children, including nine year old girl, use plastic bowls and miniature forks.  I'm letting them down and into the bargain making meal times miserable for myself.  So ungratifying are mealtimes at this stage that I dread them and will opt to take them to our local Burger King at the drop of a hat rather than serve up miserable and unappetising food, half of which will end up on the floor.

And so, in order to diminish the chances of them ending up with partners who keep margerine and ketchup in the middle of their dining tables and who think licking their knives is acceptable, I decided to embark on an experiment/project to educate them how to eat properly and with some element of decorum.