In the Time Before, my parents looked after the kids on Mondays.
It's a wonderful arrangement, and really sadly missed by both sides during the apocalypse.
As part of it, Dad/doting grandfather (stated philosophy: Never Be In the Same Room as My Grandsons and an Unpopular Decision) likes to feed them well. Which is why they have acquired tastes for stuff like sea bass, which I've never expended the £££ on acquiring for myself.
Usually though, it's salmon. Plus a posh yoghurt from Sainsbury's, or possibly trifle (philosophy according to granddad: They Need Sugar. Can't say I remember this being a feature of his parenting, but whatever).
Early on in lockdown I'd mentioned on a Zoom call that we were having something like risotto for a Monday dinner. I forget the exact component parts, but it wasn't remotely fish-related.
Dad's look of disappointed reproof was too much for me, so Monday is now Salmon Day.
Yesterday being Monday, I had salmon pieces but no energy, motivation or inspiration to do anything much with them. So I bunged it all in the oven with a good sprinkling of salt and lemon juice, boiled some pasta and a few bricks of frozen baby spinach, and fried some broccoli in more lemon juice and some olive oil to get a little bit of char on it.
Baked salmon was flaked, and everything stirred together with even more lemon juice and black pepper, and some creme fraiche.
Took about 20 mins total, and was devoured enthusiastically (seconds all round) in ways that stuff I've spent hours planning/cooking often is not.
Not sure what the moral is here, because I refuse to go with Dad is Always Right. But, y'know. He may have a point. Sometimes.
It's a wonderful arrangement, and really sadly missed by both sides during the apocalypse.
As part of it, Dad/doting grandfather (stated philosophy: Never Be In the Same Room as My Grandsons and an Unpopular Decision) likes to feed them well. Which is why they have acquired tastes for stuff like sea bass, which I've never expended the £££ on acquiring for myself.
Usually though, it's salmon. Plus a posh yoghurt from Sainsbury's, or possibly trifle (philosophy according to granddad: They Need Sugar. Can't say I remember this being a feature of his parenting, but whatever).
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| Salmon a la CBA |
Dad's look of disappointed reproof was too much for me, so Monday is now Salmon Day.
Yesterday being Monday, I had salmon pieces but no energy, motivation or inspiration to do anything much with them. So I bunged it all in the oven with a good sprinkling of salt and lemon juice, boiled some pasta and a few bricks of frozen baby spinach, and fried some broccoli in more lemon juice and some olive oil to get a little bit of char on it.
Baked salmon was flaked, and everything stirred together with even more lemon juice and black pepper, and some creme fraiche.
Took about 20 mins total, and was devoured enthusiastically (seconds all round) in ways that stuff I've spent hours planning/cooking often is not.
Not sure what the moral is here, because I refuse to go with Dad is Always Right. But, y'know. He may have a point. Sometimes.
Ha, oh no don't tell your dad. He will be insufferable. But sometimes sponteneity and invention win out, so kudos to you.
ReplyDeleteTrifle. Grandparents. Somehow they seem to go together.
Alas, the children already reported on yesterday's Zoom call that salmon was purchased.I swear there was a sort of 'ah, things are Being Done Properly' air radiating from the damn laptop.
DeleteHa, totally recognise this - both the grandparent rules (chocolate is a proper food group) and the fact that thrown together meals are greeted much more enthusiastically than those you've slaved over.
ReplyDeleteThat's a lovely quick dinner. And now you've also made me want trifle!
ReplyDelete