Hazelnuts and Cabbage Heads

Probably by the time you read this, David and I will be the proud grandparents of our second grandchild.  I'm still hoping his parent's call him "Arlo", because, well, that's what David and I have been calling him for quite some time now although I believe that they now are leaning towards "Kael" (which means I will be forced to call him "cabbage head") but maybe we will just call him "Arlo", in secret, whenever his parents aren't listening.

We watched the progress of our first grandchild with excitement via Facebook posts, every week an update explaining how big the baby was, what mother's normally experienced during this stage of gestation and various other tidbits.  At that point we had absolutely no idea of the sex or her name.  When she was born, it was a pretty special moment.  We weren't there, of course, being on the other side of the world, but when we received the call from the proud father a feeling of pure joy swept over us.  It was a true delight to hear Jimmy's voice, the excitement mixed with the exhaustion and overall, the relief in those few words.  "It's a girl!"

 

David and I skyping with the proud (and clearly very intelligent) parents of our grandchilden

Jarra had called us shortly after becoming pregnant and for weeks afterwards we had to keep everything a secret which, of course, makes it incredibly hard to feel anything at all.  Jarra was incredibly concerned of what we would think of her, mainly because she was very young, had just started university and, ultimately, had her whole life ahead of her and our attempts at being relatively responsible parents meant we ensure that we had the "don't you go getting pregnant now" conversations a few times.  After the initial shock of the call (where she made me guess what she was having difficulty in telling me) I realised that all she wanted was for us to say "Whatever you do, honey, we will support you".

These are words that all parents should practice over and over before their child is born, because it will be inevitable that they will have to say this phrase at least once in their child's lifetime and of course when they do end up saying it, they have to really mean it.  We found that we had absolutely no trouble in saying these words.  In truth, we have no trouble in saying these words to any of our children.

I recall how I broke the news of my own child's design to my own mother.  I was a little drunk, having begun celebrations pretty soon after I found out.  Apparently I went white as a sheet as the news was broken to me in front of just about all of my closest friends (and it is interesting to note that not that many of these "friends" are still in my life today).  My brother challenged me with the telling my parents, making out that it would be something of a hard thing to do, something to be fearful of and so I decided that I had to get it over with pretty quickly.

I set up a video camera in the lounge room, got my parent's to sit down with my brother in front of it and then told them the news.  My mother was never too happy about that little procedure and I do not recommend it to anyone – seriously this is not the best method.  It was quite funny though, at the time and I still smirk when I think of it today.  I'll let you draw upon your imaginations to determine how my family actually reacted to those words…. forever recorded…. on vhs…. I think my copy has degraded now, although I haven't checked for quite some time.  It's in the attic, in a box; somewhere.

So Jarra was determined to come first in the early motherhood competition that she had unexpectedly entered with her mother being the only other competitor.  Our daughter had managed to fool everyone (pretty much like I had by coming out to my parents a few years earlier as a gay man before presenting them with the news that they would be grandparents) by getting excellent marks in her final year of high school and then starting (and completing) her first year of university, where she was studying to become a Vet.  Suddenly she was pregnant and of course it did not take long for her to decide that she was going to do everything better and be much more organised than her own mother was.

Hazel wondering why her grandfather wants to devour her

 We've had a couple of years to see how that bold statement has progressed and, to be honest, on most levels she has done a fantastic job.  She is probably more stubborn than her mother was at times when it comes to dealing with members of her family although perhaps this is because she has me as a father instead of a partner, and she has David as another mother.  Have us as parents means that our kids are constantly challenged, which is probably a good thing but am learning that once they reach true adulthood (around 21 years of age) they can get quite belligerent towards this method.  I am already considering other options, but I haven't quite worked out what they will be as yet.

So which cookbook, out of all of my cookbooks, represents babyhood?  I guess I would have to go back to my all time favourite, Sarah Brown and my all time favourite recipe, Hummus.  There is something about this recipe that just says "baby food".  Of course the garlic and tahini will put off most toddlers but perhaps only those force fed the store bought jars of sweetened baby moosh.  Jarra, to our surprise, simply loved olives.  As did Brydie.  Sometimes kids' taste buds will surprise us.

To avoid duplication, I will pull another recipe from yet another Sarah Brown cookbook that I own – namely her book published by BBC books Sarah Brown's New Vegetarian Kitchen (US try here).  This tome has (naturally) some of my favourite recipes of all time:  Mushroom Soup with Tofu (whatever you do, don't replace the tofu with the same amount of miso, as my mother once did, thinking these products were the same!); Seven Seed Bread (my father used to beg me to make this as he could not stand "dish cloth bread" – the name he gave to mass produced sliced loaves from the supermarket); and Creamed Bean Pate – a favourite dip of mine, and one of the simplest dips to make if you've got a can of butter or any white bean (cannellini?) in your store cupboard and impromptu guests arriving at your door.

If you are forewarned, you can soak 175g of any white bean overnight, and then rinse and cook by covering in a pan with plenty of fresh water (boil fiercely for 10 minutes, then simmer for 40 minutes or so until soft).  Or you can use a can of any white bean.  Whichever method, drain and reserve some of the cooking water and then purée to create a creamy moosh.  Add 2 tablespoons mayonnaise, 1 tablespoon lemon juice and 2-3 tablespoons of freshly chopped mint, chives or parsley.  Mix well and season with salt and pepper to taste.  Serve with corn chips, or crudités.  Delicious.