Welcome to the wild world of Dadding. With all the big changes and challenges you and Jacinda and the little one (update: Neve!) will be going through, I thought I’d lend a few helpful words.
Lately a lot of my friends (you probably don’t know them, but they’re lovely people) have been encouraging me to write a cookbook. So I’ve been collecting a few favourite dishes and reporting as honestly as I can on the ins and out of whipping them up. Perhaps you’ll find these musings useful in a pinch.
I don’t know about you, but I find cookbooks intimidating — plus I’m miserable at following instructions. And the pictures are always so pretty. And everything is unbearably precise. Delicate. Plated to perfection.
Balderdash and bunk I say! Cooking with kids underfoot results in clumps of food on plates. Full stop. If it’s going to be so rough and ugly, might as well make it worth the trouble (which is a description I’d be happy to wear myself on a Sunday night.) Anyway, grab your favourite cast iron skillet and get ready. We’re about to fry up some good food, no fuss.