Allegra Breakfast is the only weekday meal when we’re all guaranteed to be at home, so we tend to go big on it – sometimes three or four courses.
Jack That sounds more impressive than it is. There’s always fruit in some shape or form, usually smoothie. We’ve drawn up a list of what fruit each of the children does and doesn’t like and stuck it on the fridge. To be honest, it’s mostly old fruit mashed up into a smoothie before one of the kids sees it and says, “Yuck, a black banana – I’m not eating that!” And we usually have cereal on the table, too.
Allegra Plus something warm most days: porridge, sausages, sometimes both. And panettone for an occasional treat. They can’t pronounce panettone – they’re only four! – so it’s known as “sweetie bread” in our house.
Jack The kids are on school dinners now, so we don’t have any control over what they eat at lunchtime. There’s all kinds of research that shows children operate best if they start the day with some proper food inside them – it’s a no-brainer.
Allegra The children have their tea around 5.30pm, and work commitments mean often either Jack or I won’t be around, though we make sure we have at least one family supper in the week. We tend not to go out socialising on weekdays – with two four-year-olds running amok, bath and bedtime is too full-on. Weekends are different, though. We have a big blowout lunch with friends, usually at home. Sunday lunch should be epic. The kids go to their other parents every other weekend, which means we have a fortnight to recover.
Jack We’re trying to teach them that food is about so much more than fuel. Mealtimes are about generosity, for sharing with friends and family, for sitting around the table, enjoying the company and what’s on your plate.
Allegra We’ve got a cracking couple of eaters on our hands as a result. Mind you, there is a bit of an issue with cutlery at the moment. One of them – I won’t say who – has taken against cutlery, which I find a real wind-up.
Jack I don’t exactly set a good example. I got over the whole British eating-with-hands phobia very quickly when I was working with Oxfam in Tanzania. Also, I’m very touchy-feely when I cook, so my son sees me with my hands in food all the time, sticking my fingers into pots and pans, tasting cake mix. And things like chips are meant to be eaten with your fingers. It’s just a phase he’s going through. Last week we went out for tacos and, bless him, he tried to eat his with a knife and fork when the whole idea is to get your hands dirty.
Allegra On the plus side, he is very, very good at eating his veg. My daughter’s a lot more picky: the sight of even one pea on her plate would send her into meltdown. Veg-wise, she’ll only eat broccoli or sweetcorn at the moment.
Jack (giggling): But there was that one time when she decided there was no way she was going to eat her broccoli. She calmly got up from the table, picked up her plate, walked across the living room and hurled the broccoli out of the window.
Pancakes four ways
Pancakes are a weekend tradition round ours. We always have a straw poll to choose which type to make, though the children will more often than not vote for classic “rolly-ups” filled with Nutella. Well, they would, wouldn’t they?
Jack’s porridge pancakes
If, like me, you never get the porridge quantities quite right in the mornings, these are a great solution to the problem of what to do with the leftovers. Credit where it’s due: the idea was Allegra’s initially – one day, looking at all the porridge still in the pot, she mused out loud, “I wonder if you can make pancakes out of leftover porridge.” Imagine our glee when we realised that, yes, we can.
leftover porridge (I make mine with oats and water – don’t tell the children – and add only a splash of milk at the end)
flour a little, for dusting
oil a little, to cook them
After you’ve made your porridge, leave the leftovers to cool, then pop them in a bowl, cover with clingfilm and store overnight in the fridge. It will set thick and gelatinous.
The next morning, take the porridge from the fridge, lightly flour your worktop and hands, and break a chunk off the porridge lump. Flatten with your fingertips to compress it into a patty – don’t try to roll it out because it will just cling to the rolling pin. Repeat with the rest of the porridge. (I cut my patties into neat rounds with a cookie cutter, but that’s because I like them to look nice, but it’s not essential.)
Lightly flour the patties on both sides – this will stop them sticking to the pan – then heat a little oil in a frying pan until hot. Add the patties, turn down the heat to medium, and cook for a few minutes on each side, until golden and crisp around the edges. Serve with bacon, or honey, or brown sauce and sausages, or ketchup, or with an egg on top, or any other way you can think of.
Allegra’s American pancakes
There’s room in our lives for both the classic British flattie and the airier stackables that come from over the pond.
Makes eight decent-sized pancakes
plain flour 150g
caster sugar 3 tbsp
salt a pinch
baking powder 1 tsp
bicarbonate of soda ¼ tsp
buttermilk 250ml
egg 1
butter a knob
In a big bowl, mix together all of the dry ingredients. In a smaller bowl, whisk together the wet stuff except the butter. Make a well in the centre of the dry, then pour in the wet and mix very briefly with a fork – you are just barely combining the two, so the mix should still be a bit lumpy.
Heat a heavy-based frying pan or skillet, then turn down the flame to its lowest setting and melt the butter. Add blobs of the pancake mix, keeping them well apart (you’ll have to cook these in batches), and when bubbles appear on the surface after two or three minutes, flip and cook for the same length of time on the other side.
Eat straightaway with whatever toppings you fancy: maple syrup, crisp bacon, berries, bananas, chocolate chips, whipped cream.
Allegra’s classic British pancakes (aka ‘Rolly-ups’)
Unless you’re very deft with your pans, don’t try cooking more than one at a time. Just fling them out to the troops as soon as they’re ready, or keep them warm on a heatproof plate over a pan of gently simmering water.
Makes 10 or so
eggs 2
salt a pinch
plain flour 120g
milk 400ml
butter 50g, melted, plus a knob for frying
To serve
lemon and sugar
Nutella and banana (especially nice with a few chopped hazelnuts scattered on top)
Chuck everything into a bowl, whisk until smooth, cover with a tea towel and leave to stand for an hour. Melt the butter in a thin, shallow frying pan on a medium heat, and run it around the pan as it fizzles and melts.
Ladle in just enough batter to form a thin layer when you tilt the pan. When the pancake starts to brown around the edge, after a minute or two, give the pan a shake to check it’s moving freely (if not, slide your best flippy tool underneath to loosen it), then flip – chances are you’ll have to sacrifice the first one for a cook’s snack.
The pancake will need even less time on the second side, so give it barely a minute, then tip out and get on with the next one; there should be no need to re-grease the pan between pancakes.
Jack’s silver dollar pancakes
The recipe for these tiny, American-style pancakes was in my book, A Girl Called Jack. I like mine with traditional maple syrup and crisp bacon, but have them as you will.
Makes around 20 mini-pancakes,to serve 4
plain flour 200g
baking powder 1 tbsp
sugar 1 tbsp
salt a pinch
eggs 2
butter 30g, melted, plus extra for frying
milk 300ml
streaky bacon 200g
maple syrup 6 tbsp
In a bowl, stir together the dry ingredients and make a well in the centre. Break in the eggs, then pour in the melted butter and milk, and stir to combine. Cover with a tea towel and leave to stand for 30 minutes.
Melt a little butter in a frying pan, then dollop four or so scant tablespoons of the batter into the pan, keeping them a clear 2cm apart to allow for spreading. When the pancakes are bubbling on top, flip over and cook for another minute, then remove from the pan, keep warm (separate them with greaseproof paper or clingfilm) and repeat with the remaining batter.
