To my mind, Sendak resolutely believed that children, at a young age, deserve to be able to consider concepts and emotions such as anger, injustice, leadership and failure.  Further, he recognised their innate intelligence and ability to digest the vagaries of life and to independently factor and manage the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ into everyday life.  Of course they occasionally need guidance by a loving adult hand, but if the hand is always sugar-coated do we run the risk of stifling independence and independent learning, creativity, imagination and responsible risk-taking?  I think we do.

I write often about the ability of nature and outdoors to foster these traits in children. Left to their own devices, a child is capable of learning more about themselves and their abilities (emotional, spiritual and physical) in an hour outside, than they could ever hope to glued to a plasma screen or if we fall into the trap of over-structuring their free time.

Last week, while collecting pine cones for a bonfire, my son fell some 20ft out of a pine tree like a rag-doll, bounced on a barbed wire fence yet somehow managed to land on his feet like a cat. Did watching him fall terrify me? Did I immediately feel nauseous? Did I feel a turbo-rush of mother guilt?  Yes to all of the above.  Would I encourage him to climb the same tree today?  Abso-bloody-lutely.  And maybe next time he does, I’ll also suggest he take his copy of Where the Wild Things Are to the very top of that tree, ponder the world and ROAR his terrible roar.

How do you encourage your child/ren to discover the wonder of themselves?

However, before we leave, I want to share something special with you.  Last week I attended a private screening of a truly delightful film. As film reviewer Margaret Pomeranz said, “Australian filmmaker Jane Oehr has given us a glimpse into French village life with TEA WITH MADAME CLOS. The nonagenarian of the title is slightly deaf but still very active. She leans out her window onto the square where life flows past, she greets the postman, the gendarmes, gives mints to the schoolchildren and generally embraces life. She talks to Oehr about her parents, her life, and her husband who, as an officer in the French army, was imprisoned by the Germans.”

It’s a gentle, sweet, and utterly charming film. More importantly, for me, it’s also an insight into just how fulfilling a slow life, lived well, can be.  I think that may well be Jane’s reason for making the film.  Here’s a short trailer .  However, the film, as beautiful as it is, is not exactly what I most wanted to share.  Please read on.  Jane and I both attended the same school (the school hosted the event) and as a part of the screening she gave a short talk.  As she finished, one of her school mates stood and read a poem Jane had written during her final year.  I think it’s most beautiful. Whilst it was being read, my mind fled the room and arrived at our farm, stopping at the feet of our majestic Elms, soaring Oaks and whispering Ashs.  It didn’t take long to then clothe them in the robes of colour they are set to provide in around 2 week’s time.  Jane’s poem made me shiver with excitement and anticipation.  Simple pleasures, I know.  Here it is:

Golden Ash

Ain’t it grand?

PS. If you’d like to purchase a copy of Tea with Madame Clos, email me and I’ll put you in touch with Jane.

Meantime I remembered the 1kg of Patrice Newell’s divine locally grown biodynamic garlic sitting patiently, waiting for me, in a dry, dark corner of the pantry.  Perfect!

Garlic can be a strong taste for young palates, particularly if you’re using the horrid, imported garlic sold (sadly) in most supermarkets and green grocers. Imported garlic is generally old and can be quite bitter.  Yukky stuff.  So I encourage you to support local farmers by buying fresh garlic when seasonally available (summer months through to early autumn).  Better still, if you have a little space in the garden, try growing it yourself.  Fresh garlic is, by its very nature, juicier and sweeter.  It also stores very well.

My 9 year old daughter Grace and I decided on garlic soup.  To her mind, drinking this rich, tasty broth will ensure no visits by vampires and will also stave off colds and flu for some time to come.  I like her logic. Any pungency is lost (by softly poaching the garlic) and replaced instead with a delicious sweet and nutty flavour.  We guarantee it will tempt the fussiest of eaters.

We used a fabulous (and easy) recipe by Heidi Swanson over at 101 Cookbooks, who in turn had adapted it from an original recipe in Richard Olney’s world-renowned  The French Menu Cookbook.  Many thanks and a big *hat tip* to Heidi.  Grace and I made a couple of tiny changes too.  Here’s how we did it.

Richard Olney’s Garlic Soup Recipe (makes about 4 cups)

4 cups of water

1 bay leaf

2 sage leaves

3/4 teaspoon fresh thyme

12 medium cloves fresh garlic, smash-peeled and roughly chopped

1tsp sea salt

Binding pommade

1 whole egg

2 egg yolks

1 and a half ounces freshly grated parmesan cheese

freshly ground black pepper

1/4 cup EVOO

Half a loaf of day-old crusty bread and a little more olive oil to drizzle.  We garnished our version with a couple of sprigs of flowering thyme and a baby nasturtium leaf.

Bring the water to a boil in a medium saucepan and add the bay leaf, sage, thyme, garlic and salt.  Reduce heat and simmer for 40 minutes.  Strain into a bowl, remove the bay and sage leaves from the strainer and return the broth and garlic back to the saucepan, off the heat.  Taste and add more salt if needed.

With a fork, whisk the egg, egg yolks, cheese and pepper together in a bowl until creamy.  Slowly drizzle in the olive oil, beating all the time, then add (slowly, slowly), continuing to whisk, a large ladleful of the broth.  Stir the contents of the bowl into the garlic broth and whisk it continuously over low-medium heat until it thickens slightly.  Olney states, “just long enough to no longer be water.”  Heidi on the other hand “usually lets it go a wee-bit beyond that – until it is the consistency of half and half (pouring) cream”.  I’m with Heidi.

Place a handful of torn bread chunks into the bottom of 4 soup bowls and pour the soup over the bread.  Finish with a drizzle of olive oil and serve immediately.

NB.  We doubled quantities as we are feeding 10 people.

She still sends me letters (despite us speaking daily and seeing each other weekly).  Sometimes it will be nothing more than a page torn from a magazine that has taken her fancy.  At other times she will ask my advice on something, share a recipe or enclose a photo or a funny cartoon.  She never holds back (sigh) on sending me newspaper clippings that support her political views.  I’ve decided it’s her version of Facebook. Her handwriting is very distinctive and she continues to use beautiful stationery.   E.v.e.r.y. single letter I receive from her gives me a thrill.

Not long ago Mum sent me a poem she had torn from a magazine with a yellow sticky attached that read “Isn’t this poem beautiful?  Um, yes, absolutely it is.  Evocative, gentle words designed to prick the imagination.   Beauty can be found in unexpected places and at the least likely of times.  I choose to share it here because of the bitterly cold winter that is lingering in much of Europe and some parts of the United States and Canada.  So, to my northern hemisphere friends, I send you a different way of thinking about winter, courtesy of Mr Gabriel Setoun (1861 – 1930).

JACK FROST

The door was shut, as doors should be,

Before you went to bed last night;

Yet Jack Frost has got in, you see,

And left your windows silver white.

He must have waited till you slept;

And not a single word he spoke,

But pencilled o’er the panes and crept

Away again before you woke.

And now you cannot see the hills

Nor fields that stretch beyond the lane;

But there are fairer things than these

His fingers traced on every pane.

Rocks and castles towering high;

Hills and dales, and streams and fields;

And knights in armo[u]r riding by,

With nodding plumes and shining shields.

And here are little boats, and there

Big ships with sails spread to the breeze;

And yonder, palm trees waving fair

On islands set in silver seas.

And butterflies with gauzy wings;

And herds of cows and flocks of sheep;

And fruit and flowers and all the things

You see when you are sound asleep.

For creeping softly underneath

The door when all the lights are out,

Jack Frost takes every breath you breathe,

And knows the things you think about.

He paints them on the window pane

In fairy lines with frozen steam;

And when you wake you see again

The lovely things you saw in dream.

Do you like receiving and writing letters or do you think it’s a waste of time given the advent of text, social media and email?  Personally, I can’t imagine a world without them.  If you feel the same and like this poem, perhaps you might print it out and post it to a friend? x

This set me to thinking about the experiences children deserve. So I compiled a list of the 100 things I believe children* should experience before they depart childhood.  They are in no particular order and it is impossible for the list to be finite. Many of the experiences should definitely be carried through into adulthood.  After all, I’m still trying to perfect the perfect handstand….

1. Give or receive a hug every day
2. Climb a tree
3. Fall out of a tree
4. Catch a fish
5. Swim with fish
6. Do something kind with no expectation of recognition or reward
7. Start a found collection
8. Keep a journal
9. Boil an egg and eat it before the age of 10
10. Drink out of a hose, preferably wearing nothing other than a pair of knickers
11. Eat some soil
12. Walk a dog
13. Create something with sticks, cardboard and sticky tape
14. Lie on the ground and watch the clouds
15. Be thrilled during a thunderstorm
16. Catch rain on their tongue
17. Experience triumph
18. Blow a bubble gum bubble as big as their head
19. Make jelly
20. Visit a zoo
21. 21. Do nothing
22. Be pushed in a swing
23. Learn how to swing themselves
24. Pick flowers
25. Require a bandaid once a month
26. Devise their own superhero
27. Watch a spider in its web
28. Complete a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle
29. Make their own bed (regularly)
30. Form a special attachment with someone at least 50 years older than themselves
31. Spend 3 consecutive days in their pyjamas
32. Watch a really scary movie without parental guidance
33. Pop a pimple
34. Ride a bike
35. Play with snow
36. Get sun-kissed
37. Bite their fingernails and regret it
38. Be bewildered but secretly thrilled by their first wet dream
39. Experience disappointment
40. Listen to a thrush sing
41. Make a cake from scratch
42. Enjoy the discovery that their parents are people, not just their carers
43. Hate their first period (but be relaxed and happy about the commencement of their journey into womanhood)
44. Watch several sunrises
45. Go bird watching
46. Wonder at a full moon
47. Walk barefoot on wet grass
48. Step on a prickle
49. 49. Do nothing
50. Take public transport somewhere by themselves before the age of 12
51. Walk to school
52. Wonder at a butterfly
53. Kiss their first true love
54. Mow a lawn
55. Fart with relish and not confess
56. Take a photo of something cherished
57. Confound their parent with something related to technology
58. 58. Unplug
59. Understand the value of unstructured play
60. Use the cardboard box, rather than its contents to create a masterpiece
61. Love and laugh often
62. Climb a hill and enjoy the view
63. Ride a horse bareback
64. Grow their own vegetables and herbs
65. Show compassion
66. Write a letter to someone
67. Build a cubby house
68. Find a secret hiding place
69. Sing and shout out loud
70. Play an instrument.  Whether this is done well or badly is irrelevant
71. Chase a rainbow
72. Relish creativity
73. Swim in a river
74. Make their own book
75. Get dirty and stay that way all day
76. Try various cuisines from around the world
77. Perfect handstands and cartwheels
78. Make mud pies
79. 79. Do nothing
80. Jump off a jetty
81. Go ice-skating
82. Do a self-portrait
83. Blow bubbles
84. Paint with a hose
85. Score (or save) a goal at some form of sport
86. Go to a church service of their choice
87. Toast marshmallows
88. Experience the fallibility of their parents
89. Blow a raspberry
90. Go camping
91. Make a family tree
92. Learn how to count to 10 in 10 different languages
93. Hold a snake
94. Blow an egg
95. Paint with their fingers
96. Pick their nose, eat it and decide that doing so is daft
97. Have (and keep into adulthood) a favourite toy
98. Keep a pet
99. Read books
100. 100. Do nothing

What would you add to this list?

* For the purposes of this post, I’ve defined childhood as 0-16.

Sadly, I think the former view is winning out, but they are smart enough to realise that pretending to believe ensures that his gifts will continue for a few more years yet.  And sweetly, they also don’t want to upset me, as I’m a big believer in the magic that comes with the traditions of Christmas.  Their uncertainty led us to discuss those festive traditions we would never want to be without.  Here’s the list they came up with.

• Give what we can afford to a charity to help those who aren’t as fortunate as us.  This year we’re supporting the Salvation Army.
• Sleep in.  Do nothing and enjoy it.
• Make something handmade for Grandma.  This year it’s pot pourri.
• Get sun-kissed (not sunburnt) by exploring Sydney’s beaches.  We try to swim at a different beach every other day.  Our favourite?  Bilgola.
• Unplug and stay that way for most of the holidays.
• Spend time with family and friends.
• Bake a ham and spend the next few weeks eating it with every meal until we’re sick to death of it.
• Go to a Church service and enjoy singing the Carols.
• Make a Christmas cake from scratch.

This last one is where I normally come undone.  I’m always frantic (as are most of us) in the run up to Christmas.  Too much to do and too little time.  Wrapping gifts, hiding gifts, putting up trees, booking pets into holiday care, writing and sending cards and gifts, attending a million end of year school & work functions and so on and so on.  I often find myself leaving the cake until the last minute and have been known to bake at midnight whilst hiding gifts.  So imagine my delight (no pun intended) when I discovered that one of our favourite stores, Baker’s Delight is now selling Christmas Cakes.  They come in a sturdy tin and truly are delicious.  In fact they remind me of my grandmother’s version, which is saying something.  I contacted Baker’s Delight to congratulate them and they were so chuffed, they’ve given me two vouchers valued at $20 each to give away to readers of my blog.  How lovely is that?  Given their reasonable prices, that’ll buy a good selection of their Christmas products** and maybe even a few loaves of bread.  The vouchers will go to the two people who can add to my list, those festive traditions one simply shouldn’t do without.  Winners will be drawn randomly, out of a hat, by my 8 year old daughter on Monday 19 December.

Whatever the festive season means to you, I hope it’s peaceful and full of fun.  Oh, by the way, my daughter is still insisting on leaving beer and biscuits out for Father Christmas and carrots and grass for the reindeer.  Maybe, just maybe, she’s a true believer after all. x

**They are also selling yummy mince pies and lemon tarts over the festive period.

Preparing lunch with Grandma

I credit my mother for instilling in me a love of food and a passion for experimentation in the kitchen.  She is a great cook and always insisted that we try the dishes she prepared at least three times (big mouthfuls, not just nibbles).  On the whole it was a positive experience as she had the knack of making the new tastes tempting, exotic -mysterious even.  She always involved us in the process of cooking, explaining as we went, where the food came from, why the flavours would complement each other and how, on the whole fresh is always best. So much so that in the end we couldn’t help but want to try whatever it was she put in front of us.  Although I do remember a gruesome experience with Pickled Pork and a further disaster tasting Tripe in Tomato Sauce (both of which I now adore).

So to my mind, Mum was right.  Involvement, persistence and creativity are key when attempting to expand your children’s palates.  The upside of doing so?  Your children will quickly learn about the depth and breadth of the world’s cuisines – which can lead to lovely conversations about cultural diversity and tolerance and love of difference.  They will also garner a knowledge of agriculture, food production and sources and the need to think sustainably whenever possible.  It will almost certainly lead them to being comfortable in the kitchen.

My tips and ideas for introducing new flavours and cuisines?

• Go slowly but persistence is key.
• If you’re not a confident cook, consider a couple of basic cooking classes with your children.
• If it doesn’t work first time, that’s cool.  Give it a break and try again another time.
• Make it fun.  Invite their friends over and encourage them to cook together.
• Use garnishes as a way of making the meals look appealing and quirky. We use edible flowers a lot.
• Chat about the ingredients.  How many are the same? How many are different?
• Consider dressing up in the national costume of the country of the chosen cuisine.  Don a kilt and make a Haggis!  Or a find a kimono and give Sushi a go.
• Get out the atlas while cooking and chat about which country the recipe hails from and how it differs from your own.
• Involve your children as much as possible at every stage of the process.
• Encourage talk about the senses – smell, taste, touch, sight and sound – how are they different?  How are they the same?
• Have them devise their own recipes – their creativity will amaze you.  You could suggest they invent their own country and an accompanying cuisine.
• Every now and then treat them to a night out at the local Thai, Indian, Vietnamese, Japanese, Korean, Italian, Greek, Chinese etc, etc.
  

  Tasting Vietnamese Pho for the first time

• But most of all, enjoy the process.  If it doesn’t feel right or becomes stressful, cook their favourite meal (in my home that’s schnitzel and mashed spuds *sigh*) and tackle the world’s cuisines another day.

Last year Mum visited the stunning Ginja Cooking School on the beach front in Phuket, Thailand. I was incredibly envious and had to make do with her gift of a small but inspirational recipe book.  My children and I have since been working our way through it.

Thai flavours can be challenging for children (not used to having them on a regular basis).  Cries of “it’s too spicy” or “there are sticks and leaves in my dinner” were commonplace when we first started out.  But the thrill of being let loose with a mortar and pestle, pounding along with chopping and peeling, and the planting, growing and harvesting of our own asian herbs quickly won them over.

Over at our blog dedicated to food, No Fuss Food, you’ll find the latest meal the kids and I prepared.  We were inspired to give it a go after finding that the lemongrass in our garden had gone ballistic. It’s the delicious and very popular Thai dish – Tom Yum Goong.  It’s much easier than it might appear.  We promise.