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.