Pizza Chips

I thought it would be a long time before my 5-year-old son debuted a recipe in the kitchen and would enthusiastically asked me to post it on this blog.

This term his class went on a learning journey around Italy. He enjoyed discovering how the barrier reef is the size of the boot-shaped country, how the Mona Lisa was stollen from her French custodians (by an Italian thief!) how he is still too young to climb up the Tower of Pisa and how to transform pitta bread into pizza chips (sorry Italy for every word keeping that last sentence together!). 

Here goes this memory of him running out of spring camp, greasy paper bag in hand and chip straight into my mouth, to prevent me from attempting a word. Love in a bite. Enjoy! 

 

Liptauer or Austrian Cheese Spread

The nature of my profession, albeit rewarding it can be also emotionally withdrawing. I have to consistently and carefully nurture and look after myself to be able to successfully separate from the sorrows and dejections that stop others from enjoying a fulfilling and grateful life.

To counterbalance the nature of my profession I am intuitively drawn to the mountains, where I peacefully heal, reenergise and recover from it all. 

This recipe is from our latest retreat. An Austrian spread to enjoy on a slice of freshly baked bread, a glass of wine and long distance memories of new-coming spring air. 

Honey Cake

Motherhood certainly pushed me out of any form of structure and routine I furiously held myself accountable for. It brought many other practices, some of which I madly treasure as I know that alongside childhood, they are temporary. The big nostalgic in me is already grieving the inevitable alteration to the composition of images that shape our family life.

My top pick at the moment is Friday afternoons: ‘under the sea’ jigsaw puzzle scattered on a wobbly table at the local bakery, two large ‘babyccinos’ with red and white stripes straws from our indulgent barista, oat flat white and Braeburn apple in (my) hand, and two pricey bite size treats, including my two -and-a-half year old seasonal favourite, the honey infused mini cake, which she deflowers with determination and carefully bites, leaving just the leftover icing-less base (a love token for daddy). 

So this is my gratitude recipe for the end of the week ritual. A memory bite size is never going to be enough so here is a whole cake to remember. Enjoy! 

Breakfast Omelette

Cooking will always be an ongoing journey of discovery and amazement. I’ve collected specialist books, carefully selected and filed articles, followed blogs and magazines, photographed menus, and so on. But I never expected a cartoon to be my learning source for omelet perfection. Hey Duggee, the big friendly dog and the Squirrels gave me the inspiration and skills to provide my little ones with the simplest, yet delicious breakfast choice. I embrace my well-deserved ‘omelette badge’ without shame, so please don’t even read my badly written recipe, just watch the episode and have a little laugh. Hope that after this, the kids around you also claim none makes better omelets than you. Enjoy! 

Chicken and Blackbean Stew

Being a mum has helped flourished my creativity in the most unexpected ways. Every morning whilst we cycle to school, my son demands a story, something new and exciting for me to come up with and end happily ever after before we say goodbye. We live 10 min away from the school.  He gives me a character and from there we take off. I am obliged to master the art of improvisation! Or perhaps it's his subtle avoidance of any form of interrogation... clever boy!

My daughter, on the other hand, finds songs soothing.. The perfect example of my developed mothering performing skills are those lyrics I urgently compose when anticipating an emotional outburst! Impromptu distraction... A degree in drama and music to add on my CV. The closest I get to the stage these days. 

How I wish I could say the same about my cooking skills, which are far from improving. That would bring us all much more joy, but time forbids, and I don't resist it (anymore).  Looking back at this blog I could see how I underestimated that privilege, a precious commodity. I try not to dwell much about it and find refuge on where creativity has been transferred. I am grateful for the blog as it has become a compilation of memories and recipes that we often trust, become family favourites, and now cook together. This is why I feel it’s important to continue adding to it and help it grow alongside my little ones, to make it an ongoing memory of some sort and to perhaps reflect and give myself credit for coming up with special dishes here and there, despite thinking that time was no longer beside me. 

 

I won't probably remember the multiple little hedgehog adventures, the entrepreneur puppy that became the most famous tailor in the forest, the baby dragon that found his castle.. those we enjoyed and left on the road.. but I will remember how it felt to tell them and I will remember looking behind to rush him to speed up and find that joyful smile. 

And I also want to remember those recipes, simple and humble, that were a success, those they actually tried without bribery, those that did not need a pasta takeover and those that I want to make again, specially when not having the time to improvise. This blackbean stew is definitely one of those. Enjoy!