Displacement activity

Not an easy day, today.

Morning started well enough - cherry pancakes with Nutella for the boys, getting through a 25-minute run for the first time (couch to 5k, so depressingly predictable of me but it's working), nearly finished a new pair of pyjama trousers to go with the gloriously swishy vintage kimono that arrived yesterday (a proper one, from Japan - added a much-needed touch of sparkle to my Friday).

Afternoon was when the wheels wobbled; a family Zoom call with a visibly upset relative looking at the preschool grandchildren she's worried won't remember her when they next meet. Nothing I can do about it, nothing compared to what others are going through, but it hurt my heart.

I'd already started prep for dinner - a recipe from the Dishoom cookbook, Murgh Malai chicken - but  hollow with anxiety, I needed to DO something. 

The chicken (Son No1's main food priority for the Time After) should be grilled if you're doing the recipe properly, but I wasn't in the mood for standing around watching stuff and put it in the oven to bake. 

Displacement activity. But tasty.

I ditched the idea of rice to go with the chicken, did a bit of frantic googling and freestyled a saag-aloo-sort-of: cubed potato, lots of garlic and ginger paste, toasted cumin and mustard seeds, more cumin, ground coriander and turmeric, passata and a tin of spinach all jumbled together and shoved in the oven when the chicken went in.

Having had a bag of gram flour lurking in the back of the cupboard for, ooo, ever, I dug it out and had a go at chapattis, and then used yet more yoghurt, milk and mango pulp in an attempt at Son No2's Time After food priority from Dishoom; mango lassi.

It all worked fine: the ginger and garlic and vinegar from Chicken Marinade One combined with the cheese and yoghurt and egg and fresh coriander from Marinade Two to give us zingy, tender chicken and an interesting browned omelettey crust (trust me, here). 

The saag aloo-ish was just the right amount of aromatic without leaving the Child Spice Comfort Zone, and after the disastrous first chapatti (same principle as pancakes, apparently) all the others fried up nicely. 

Lassi with offending cardamom seeds

The lassi was slurped down at speed; Son No1 loved the cardamom seeds sprinkled on top, Son No2 changed his mind and requested removal after biting one accidentally. 

And somewhere during all this, I found my even keel again. Thank the gods for cooking.