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.