Petrea said to Jess, Cook a curry for your Dad. Jess said, ‘I’ve never done that before.’ Don’ worry, says Petrea and delivers a box. Leaves it at the gate. All you have to buy is chicken, Jess. On the day, Jess marches into my office, ‘Dad! There’s no recipe!’ Petrea says read the backContinue reading “Jess Cooks a Curry”
2013/12/27 Meals: We usually have a vegetarian meal a week. If I have my way its phutu, mfino and speckled beans. Wonderful stuff. The kids love it, but feel obliged to rev me throughout “WHAT!? No meat!? Are we too poor, Dad? This is dodge, Dad! Kinda homeless, Dad!” Ja Ja! Eat up, I say.Continue reading “My Vegetarians”
I am not known for braai’ing. Anything but. I avoid it if I can. If God had wanted men to ‘barbecue’ he would not have invented ovens. Or some such excuse. I am quite good at watching okes braai. But living in primitive country it’s inevitable that I have to set fire to something everyContinue reading “Faithful Apprentice”
21 Dec 2014: Dad! The supper last night was the BEST! says my off-ritalin TomTom breathlessly. The Xmas ham was SO good, and the steak was great, and the roast chicken was tasty, Dad!! I had some of everything except salad, he says proudly. My salad-dodger hates it when his appetite is suppressed by theContinue reading “Carnivorous Salad Dodger”
I’ve left the kids alone at home, so when an urgent call comes I take it. It’s Tom. Dad! We need to get a lamb roast and rosemary and garlic and small-cut vegetables to roast. It’s a slow roast and we don’t have any rice or lamb stock in the pantry! OK Tom, we’ll doContinue reading “Urgent phone call at work”
So I’m slaving over the hot braai fire at Happy Wanderers, juggling the timing of the spuds, meat and veg, when I spot the kids eating bowls of blue cereal, milk & sugar. Hey! Watcha doin’? I’m making supper! I say. “Dad”, says Jess, “Remember Mom’s fridge magnet: “Life is uncertain, eat dessert first”?
Dragging the juicer out of the pantry, TomTom looked at me. And now? I want to mix some pasta dough, Dad. That’s the juicer, boy, here’s the Kenwood chef. OK Mixes the stuff, whips it up, then kneads it by hand; Next thing he has a pasta machine clamped to the kitchen table. It hasContinue reading “My Pasta Chef”