Baby Angel has taken an interest in cooking - something that dear Arizaphale has never done (panic attack, anyone?) - and is getting quite good at it.
This burgeoning interest has coincided with a vastly improved palate and willingness to try new and different taste sensations which is also very welcome. As I write this, however, I cannot help looking back to a time not so many years ago (just over 3 in fact) when preparing a meal for Baby Angel was something less of a joy ...
Let me state here that I am a good cook.
It was not always so, I admit, but after years of experience and a willingness to learn I have become proficient, if not inspired, in the kitchen.
It would be a challenge to cook a gourmet dinner party for 8, but not beyond me. A good menu, planning, timing and judicious amounts of sauvignon blanc, would see four or five courses delighting my guests with a minimum of fuss.
Why then, was it completely impossible for me to cook a standard dinner for a 9 year old without stuffing it up?
I recall one occasion when Arizaphale had gone out and I was looking after Baby Angel for the evening. She was almost 10 so I felt this should be no big deal.
However, this optimism did not take into account Baby Angel's attitude to food at that time. Like most children she was fairly exacting in her requirements and completely unwilling to experiment in the slightest when it came to food. You might argue until you’re blue in the face that a chipolata is just like a small pork BBQ sausage (thin) but to no avail! It’s just not right and will therefore not be contemplated, let alone taste tested. And don’t even think to venture chevapchichi!
Dinner time was, therefore, a cyclic menu featuring the 5 major food groups:
• Chicken nuggets
• Thin pork BBQ sausages
• Tuna mornay
• Noodles
• Spag Bog
(There was also shepherd’s pie, but as this was just yesterday’s leftover spag bog with mashed potato on top it doesn’t count).
All of these delights could be served only with boiled vegetables, being potato (may be mashed), broccoli, peas, beans, cauliflower and carrot.
Gravy was allowed.
Tomato sauce was not ...
... except with chips that came from McDonalds.
This night Arizaphale had thoughtfully provided me with a pack of acceptable sausages and some broccoli. I shamefacedly admitted to having forgotten to buy potatoes having sworn to do so, but willingly pulled out another can of Tiny Taters to substitute. Well they’re already half boiled ...
The cab arrived and Arizaphale departed. This was how it went from there ...
Now for BA's dinner!
Root around the fridge. Find carrots and peas. Phew.
Remember that Arizaphale microwaves vegetables and it only takes a minute or two. I have no idea how to microwave vegetables. I steam my vegetables but realise immediately that this will not be acceptable to 9 year old palate. Must boil! Get saucepans.
Turn on grill. Put Tiny Taters in saucepan to boil some more. Can’t think what else to do with them. Peel carrots, julienne and put in another pot of water. So far so good.
Put sausages in grill. Vegetables bubbling away in a very unappetising manner. Can see the nutrition being leeched from them, but never mind.
Arizaphale rings! She has arrived at destination and is calling to make sure everything is fine. I reassure her that BA has not been abducted by aliens and that tea is going well. Yes, I have carrots. Yes, the potatoes are on. Yes, the broccoli is ready and I have added peas to spice up the mix. Yes, the sausages … SHIT, THE SAUSAGES!
Dive for sausages! They are charcoal on one side and raw on the other. For anyone other than a 9 year old they would be perfectly acceptable (with a bit of a scrape) but we already know from bitter experience that Baby Angel DOESN’T LIKE THE BURNT BITS.
Sausages go in the bin.
Thank goodness Arizaphale thought to provide a whole tray of sausages! Sausages #2 go on grill which is an excellent thing as Tiny Taters, carrots, broccoli and peas are now going soggy. Damn.
Turn heat down on hideously overcooked vegetables and turn my attention to the final ingredient for BA's fabulous dinner – the gravy.
Arizaphale has, again, kindly provided a can of the appropriate gravy mix.
Where the hell did I put my glasses?
OK – instructions on gravy tin say to put 3 level teaspoons into 1 cup of boiling water and stir vigorously with a fork for 1 minute until smooth and creamy. Right.
Whoops! I may have put in a tad over a cup of water, but it will all turn out fine I’m sure. Stir vigorously.
Stir vigorously.
Stir a bit more vigorously.
Nope – this is still gravy water and no amount of vigorous stirring is going to make it better.
Perhaps another spoonful? Or 3?
Half a tin of Arizaphale's special gravy mix later and the product is starting to assume the consistency of slightly silty water. SHIT – THE SAUSAGES!!!!!!!!
It was a jumbo tray which is just as well. Sausages #3 go into the grill under careful supervision. After all there’s nothing left to do except watch the vegetables go even soggier and the gravy congeal to the consistency of lite cream.
Finally, the meal is presented. Sausages without a hint of charcoal. Vegetables boiled within an inch of their lives and swimming in a pool of what might kindly be referred to as gravy by a starving child in a third world country.
And BA eats every bite ...
Bring on the gourmands ... please!
3 comments:
But you see my dear, that's EXACTLY what I did for her every FIFTH night!!!! (only I ate the bits that didn't work)
I must admit the cooking we sampled when BA visited us was 100% Arizaphale must let her or even better insist she visits Gawler more often.
I would be very interested Arizaphale in what happened on the other nights of the week, or did you just feed her once!!!!
On the other nights of the week I burned, boiled and ruined one of the other four meals listed by Miss Betty. :-D
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