I've been meaning to put all my weaning recipes in one place, but, well I've been busy weaning. Lawrence is now nine months old and eats pretty much what we eat. I have been asked many times since he was born whether I follow baby led weaning or the purée method and quite honestly I've mostly been avoiding the question. It's just so political.
I'm not going to pretend like these are healthy, because sometimes you don't want healthy. Sometimes the kale and the almond milk chat and the steaming rather than frying can give you healthy fatigue. If that's the case then I prescribe something so trashy, so incredibly grubby that it sends you straight back on the wagon.
I am never happy. No, I don't mean I'm a depressive. I think I was depressed for about 2 months back in 1999, but other than that have been lucky on that front. I'm just never happy with my lot. I have this constant suspicion I am missing out on things. I have to try everything once. It's a recipe for disaster. Like poor impulse control in infants.
I have never ever hankered after a daughter. Obviously if one had appeared then I'd have loved her and been very happy indeed. But one never did. And I now find myself in the curious position of being a mother of three sons, still under 35 and yet about to sell all the unisex baby bits on eBay. I'm getting rid of everything.
Traditionally in Mauritius we make this with corned mutton which has a much stronger flavour and Iove it but I love corned beef as well and in the UK this is readily available and easier to get hold of. To be honest with you I love most tinned things, sardines, mackerel, anchovies and I suppose it's mostly out of nostalgia
These cupcakes are something I made for the school fayre. They sold out pretty fast, I'm sure due to their white chocolate dribbleness. The other cakes I made did not sell out fast. It was very stressful watching them sit, lonely and ignored. I won't be making anything other than these for the school fayre, ever again.
We're back from our summer hols. We went to Suffolk. Southwold to be precise. We always holiday in Suffolk; it's my attempt at creating childhood memories the boys can bore their own kids with. I regularly irritate them with rose tinted tales of crabbing in Cornwall. It's only right I allow them the same pleasurable adult pastime.