STEVE JOBS & I - WHAT WE HAVE IN COMMON.

The other night when it was so hot I was sweating like a homo eating a hotdog, I decided to bake.

Figuring that our non-air-conditioned apartment (with the only fan given to our child in the vain hope that it would help her sleep) couldn’t get any hotter, it seemed like the ideal occasion to make delicious, nutritious made-with-love treats for my girl.

I had mother’s guilt (again) after our trip to the US. Dragging an 11 month-old about hotels and airports for three weeks means she was on a steady diet of boob and those weird squeezy vegetable things.

Who eats pureed pear, broccoli and organic rutabaga anyway?

So I began with cookies.

Batches and batches of apricot wheatgerm cookies.

Or more accurately apricot non-wheat germ cookies because I didn’t have any wheat germ so I used wheat flakes, desiccated coconut and oats instead.

 This ambivalence towards a recipe really bothers Gregory.

‘Baking is a science,’ he tells me, once again confirming that my girlhood aspirations to be a doctor were way off base.

‘Oh yeah, take a pill or two and have a lie down. No, no, one glass of wine shouldn’t be a problem.’

Then I moved onto muffins. Vegetable muffins I thought, since she didn’t seem to mind a weird combination of pureed vegetables while we were away.

So I got out the bag of emergency frozen veg, pureed them, wacked ‘em in a bowl with some flour and an egg, grated some cheese and in a moment of inspiration threw in some sultanas.

There’s a cooking show in the US called Chopped where the contestants have to make a meal out of whatever goodies they’re given in a basket. I reckon I’d be awesome at it.

Wasabi, cous cous and caramel? No probs.

However, It would seem that mixing wet and dry ingredients (or leaveners and raisers as Gregory calls them) requires some sort of accuracy.

Lacking that entirely meant my muffins took a very long time to cook, in fact never really did to be honest.

And so at the point where the apartment had reached the temperature of the inside of a volcano, I finally took them out of the oven, assured by now the egg was at least rid of whatever it is you're meant to be wary of in raw egg, and spooned them onto a plate to cool.

That’s correct, they didn’t come out of the muffin tin with a gentle tap and I don’t own a wire rack to do things properly.

Then for my final trick I made choc-chip cookies to pacify my sweating husband. Choc-chip cookies with wholemeal flour.

Such a healthy move immediately counteracted by 6 of them being joined in pairs by large scoops of ice cream and inhaled in a matter of seconds.

A desperate attempt to lower his core temperature he claimed.

I shut down the oven, poured myself a litre of water and sat down on the couch…just as the southerly blew through.

Mother Nature, you can be a real wench sometimes.

 The next day dawned and Q began her day with a few of my weird non-muffin muffins.

Three of them downed in a matter of seconds.

Success people, utter success.

I am the Steve Jobs of children’s cooking. I laugh in the face of convention.

May my disregard inspire you to go forth and invent with nary a care for protocol.

Steve never asked us if we wanted the iPad. He just knew we would.

Same as Q.

I just knew she’d want those muffins.

Knew it. 

THE TIGHT ARSE'S GUIDE TO CHILDREN'S MEALS

It is well known amongst my friends and family that I am a tight arse, although I prefer the phrase fiscally prudent.

Perhaps it was my upbringing, or my grandmother’s influence (she could make a chicken last a week), maybe it’s just my nature.

But without such highly developed skills I would never have survived seven years in New York living and working as a musical theatre performer.

Ketchup soup anyone?

It ain’t so bad when your other option is tuna surprise…tuna mixed with whatever else I found in the cupboard.

And now I’ve found a way to carry my ‘waste not want not’ attitude into my daughter’s meals as well.

Behold. The ever changing, ever delicious, not-a-thing-goes-unused menu for the divine Miss Q…

·               Vegetable muffins - Wholemeal flour (yes, yes, I seriously am that healthy) and leftover vegies from dinner the night before. Sometimes I really shake things up by mashing the sweet potato so the muffins are a delightful orange colour instead of the grey of the healthy wholemeal flour.

·               Frittata – made in the microwave. Do the microwaves cancel out the goodness of the dish I wonder? Again, use any leftover vegies, rice, a few eggs, a bit of milk and toss in some sour cream or cottage cheese. Truly, I hit upon this by accident because I was just trying to use up what was in the fridge, but it adds a certain richness to the dish and honestly, I think MasterChef may want to speak to me soon.

·               Bran Muffins – these are actually a recipe, but I’ll have to post it later as it’s at my mum’s house. Suffice to say they include sultanas, buttermilk, all-bran and healthy flour. Keeping you healthy on the inside folks.

·               Leftover cold fish – got to admit, not something even I could choke down. But Miss Q’s uncle likes a spot of spear fishing, and what could possibly be better than freshly caught, freshly barbequed filets of fish prepared just for you. No tartare sauce required.

·               Meatballs – I use chicken, mince, pork, whatever. Mix with some breadcrumbs, an egg if need be and some seriously finely chopped vegies. Roll into balls and bake. Big hit people. Big hit.

·               Savoury pikelets – there’s a recurring theme here of using last night’s vegies, but Q has become the perfect replacement to our no-longer-alive dog. Just to really shake things up, you could grate the vegies instead of chop them.

·               Crockpot surprise – there is always a lot of jus (that’s sauce for you non-chefs out there) left over with a Crockpot meal, and I see no reason to let such a delicious thing go unused. What’s wrong with steaming a bit of chicken or pork and mixing it in with the jus? Or adding rice. Or pasta, couscous perhaps. The possibilities are endless.

·               Marinated chicken – in yoghurt, soy, whatever else is close to expiration. Leave them for a while, then wack ‘em in the oven and bake. Any leftovers can be re-recycled into the above muffins or frittata.

·               Stewed fruits – get the bag of old apples reduced to a couple of bucks on a Friday afternoon at the supermarket. Stew and mix with yoghurt for dessert. Your child need never know how many brown spots you had to cut out.

·               Porridge – do you know how cheap that stuff is?

I could go on and on, but I think I’ve given you a good enough start.

If you are a fellow fiscal prude and have suggestions of your own, please, consider it your charitable duty to keep the rest of us informed.

If you’re new to this way of life, I embrace you.

Soon you too, will be justifying your bought coffee addiction with your budget saving cooking.

Waste not on your child and you will not want for your coffee.

Everybody wins.