How to create a culinary rod for your own back

Step 1

Decide that being inner city dwellers in the good food capital (Melbourne of course), we are absolutely obligated to bring our kids up appreciative of all the wonderful cuisines on offer literally at our doorstep. Take aforementioned children to Italian, Greek, Chinese, Turkish, Mexican, Vietnamese, Indian etc restaurants and introduce them to everything from noodles and curries to wraps and tortillas of every shape and texture. (please just note that I am not cooking any of this, merely purchasing LOL)

Step 2

Pretty much sprain my wrist back-patting myself smugly at what cosmopolitan citizens of the world we’re cultivating.

Step 3

Listen to aforementioned cultured, cosmopolitan citizens of the world bemoan what boring, uninspired, bland sandwiches fill their school lunchboxes. “Why can’t we have chicken and noodles in a thermos Mu-um?” “Could you make fried rice/lasagna/thai beef salad for lunch tomorrow?” Aargh! “Annabel’s* Mum makes her marinated chicken wraps” (bless Annabel’s Mum, clearly a domestic goddess and someone we all need to either aspire to or slap).

Step 4

Curse my short-sightedness under my breath LOL

Our school lunches start off ok as I make a couple of days worth of sandwiches on a Sunday afternoon with a little more time, energy and varied ingredients than later on in the week. By Friday, we are reduced to the vegemite or jam or cheese on slightly stale bread sandwich or I just give up altogether and reach for the school canteen menu. ;)

My girls are the victims of mixed messages and a mother who is very occasionally utterly inspired and aspirational in the kitchen, but for the most part, pedestrian and going through the motions. So one minute, it’s vanilla bean cupcakes with Persian fairy floss or freshly made churros or truffles followed by 6 months of only arnotts marie biscuits and sakatas crackers in the cupboard. LOL One brilliantly planned and co-ordinated dinner a month amidst a sea of those embarrassingly awful, but sinfully convenient sauce jar creations.

Oh, and I have to confess that while my children have wandered happily around the culinary world, we did have a wonderful disaster a couple of months ago. My birthday, no babysitter and I refused to relinquish my dream of a French meal – after all, the French invented the French Fry, so how could it go wrong?

Have you ever noticed that French restaurants are really very quiet and filled with romantically inclined couples? I guess that was the attraction in the first place ;)

Maybe I just imagined the restrained dismay on the maitre d’s face as he greeted us. But I couldn’t fail to notice that the seating arrangements had our family of five in one corner and every other customer in the opposite corner with an ocean of space in between. Not that it was enough to protect them from the verbal assault of my 8 year old with the booming voice and laugh. Then my fussy little sh.. – sweetheart ;) decided that she “couldn’t like” French chicken, calamari, lettuce, carrots - you name it, she couldn’t like it and ended up with a plate of solely white food – fries, bread and cheese! Thank goodness for the 12 year old who was happily nicking smoked salmon from her Dad’s plate and béarnaise sauce from mine. We cut our losses and had dessert at home LOL

*All names have been changed to protect myself from the schoolyard mafia Mums