Impressions from the Petits Chefs

My kids have grown up in bookstores, and our family is mourning the closing of a couple in our area.  Our sorrow was tempered, however, by the awesome sales.  Yesterday we picked up a copy of Emeril's There's a Chef in my World: Recipes that Take You Places for 70% off.  Today, Ariana and Joel went through the book and picked out a couple of recipes.  Then Joel checked to see which ingredients we had already and which ones we needed to buy, and Ariana made a shopping list.  We headed to the store to purchase a few items, then they got to work on their menu: a sweet and smoky Chipotle Chili (our own recipe), cheesy Mexican Cornbread, and a fresh and cool Mango Lassi.

They diced peppers and sauteed veggies for the cornbread, and grated cheese.  Then Joel measured all the ingredients and added them to the cast iron skillet.  While it was baking, Ariana cooked the sausage for the chili (maple sausage is our secret ingredient--it adds a subtle sweet taste that matches well with the smokiness of the chipotles), added the beans and tomatoes and seasonings.  While it simmered, she prepared the lassi.  I was impressed by the timing.  The chili and lassi were finished just as the cornbread came out of the oven.  The only things I did were chop the jalapeño, since we didn't have gloves, and remove the cornbread from the oven. 

We have used kids' cookbooks in the past that were a disappointment--no real cooking at all, just arranging prepackaged ingredients.  I love Emeril's cookbooks for kids because they are real recipes that the whole family would eat, but the recipes are detailed enough for the kids to follow with minimal input from me and learn a lot about cooking.

The kids had a blast and are looking forward to cooking for us again.  Here are their impressions of the meal:

Ariana (7):

The cornbread was pretty good, but spicy.  I liked the way it looked.  The texture was good and it tasted yummy.  I love the flavor.  My favorite part of cooking it was chopping the sweet red pepper.

The chili was a little too saucy, but still good.  I liked the tomatoes and beans.  Opening the cans was fun.

The mango lassi was good.  The orange slice for the garnish made it look pretty.  The lassi helped me because the chili was spicy.  It cooled off my mouth.  I enjoyed running the blender.  The flavor of the lassi was like mangoes and really good.

Joel (5):
I didn't eat the cornbread.  The veggies smelled really yummy when I was cooking them.  It didn't smell good when it came out of the oven, though. It smelled like jalapeños and the flavor was yucky.  Making it was fun.  The part where I got to spread the butter and grating the cheese was my favorite part. 

I liked making the meat brown for the chili.  It was good.  I like cheese on it sometimes.  It was a little spicy, but not too spicy.  It was just right. 

The mango lassi was too lemony. [It did not contain any lemon.  Maybe he meant the orange?]

Elena was disappointed at not being allowed to chop, but she stirred and added ingredients.  She was not a huge fan of the cornbread, but enjoyed the chili and said that the lassi tasted like a smoothie.  She wants to do it all by herself next time. ;)

They all said that they really want to cook some more next time.  There is a recipe for an Oreo Peanut Butter Banana Pie that they were drooling over.  They also like the sound of his Old Fashioned Apple Pie.  Or maybe the Cinnamon-Walnut Scottish Shortbread.  Ariana wants to make edamame and a Croque Monsieur, and Joel likes the idea of smashing chicken for the Chicken Piccata.  They all sound good to me!

The Petite Sous Chef--GD and younger siblings

This is from a few weeks ago when they interrupted their dress up play to make snowcream together.

I have shared in previous posts about giving my seven year old more responsibilities in the kitchen and taking her seriously.  This morning, she was making pancakes while I took care of the baby.  My two year old went into the kitchen to see what was going on and begged to help.  Now, despite (or because of) all of the experience I have had cooking with the kidlets, I get just how frustrating it can be.  Efficiency goes out the window (at least in the early stages).  It takes longer and there is more work involved supervising everyone else.  It is simpler to just do it yourself, you know?

So I expected that Ariana would tell Elena to do something else or try to gently distract her.  Instead, she paused and really looked at her little sister.  "You really want to help, don't you?"  "YES!" beamed the two year old.  "Well, the stove is very hot and you could get burned.  But I have a very important job you can do."  As she was talking, my seven year old quickly melted some butter in the microwave, and placed it next to the rack of pancakes she had just cooked.  Handing her little sister a pastry brush, she told her to paint all the pancakes with melted butter.  Elena was so pleased--how much more fun can a two year old have than that?!

After she finished, Ariana carefully instructed her in making pancakes, and let her put a couple of spoonfuls of batter in the pan.  Elena compared hers to Ariana's and said that she messed up.  Ariana lovingly reassured her that just because they were different sizes or shapes didn't mean that they weren't as good.  Elena's smile lit up again.  I just watched in awe at the wisdom and tenderness of my daughter towards her little sous chef. 

I struggle so hard to incorporate my convictions about how to treat my children.  Things like welcoming them into my plans when I am trying to get things done, really listening to them, giving them fun  opportunities to contribute in a meaningful way, gently encouraging instead of controlling and telling them how to "improve" upon their results.  These are lessons that I have to work at on a daily (hourly) basis.  And my seven year old seemed to do it effortlessly!  It reminded me that part of the reason I am working to treat my children with gentleness and respect is so that they will find it easier to treat their own children that way.

A Lesson from my Petite Chef

After the post on taking her desire to cook seriously and giving her more responsibilities and freedoms in that area, Ariana has gone to town.  This morning, I mixed up some pancake batter, but left it because the baby was fussy.  I walked into the kitchen, and she was happily frying up pancakes.

I am, to put it mildly, a bit of a control freak.  I noticed that she dripped a little batter.  That she was starting to flip a couple of them too soon.  That a different angle with the spatula would be easier for her.  I opened my mouth to tell her.  Then the Holy Spirit gave me a nudge.

None of the things I wanted to say was harsh or insulting.  I wanted to "help".  But in spite of my motivations, I could see it play out in my mind, just as it had played out in my past, with the radiant sparkle in her eyes dying down just a bit with each word of advice or correction until all the luster was dulled.  I took a deep breath.

She looked a little worried.  "Mom?  I messed up on a couple of these."  I smiled and told her that I did that sometimes, too.  In fact, it is a known rule among chefs that the first pancakes just don't turn out quite as good as the rest of the batch.  They were fine.  The anxious look faded and I received a blinding smile.  And you know what?  She was able to see for herself what she needed to do to make the next ones better.  I strongly suspect that most of the time, pointing out flaws is not particularly enlightening.  In my experience, most of the time people are already aware of the flaws, and encouragement is more constructive than criticism.  But, oh, how hard it is not to mention what could be better!

I left her to finish up, and when I returned, she had sliced bananas on top of the remaining pancakes and had dusted them with nutmeg.  Forgetting all that I had just learned, I asked her if she thought that the nutmeg might be too overpowering since it has such a pungent flavor.  She stood by her product.  I tried one, and had to apologize.  She had used a light touch, and instead of overpowering, it perfectly accented the banana.  They were delicious!  Oh, me of little faith.  All of the crunch of a waffle, but tender inside, yummy flavors.

Even more than a hot breakfast that I didn't have to cook, what I got out of this morning was another lesson in trust, in letting go, in being thankful, in moving past perfectionism, in joy, and in keeping my mouth shut.  It seems that I need this lesson far more than my seven year old needs a cooking class.  Thankfully, I have a patient and loving teacher.

My Passionate Petite Chef

 I had an argument with my seven year old today.  I wanted her to get out her schoolbooks.  She dawdled.  She sighed.  I pushed and pressured.  She balked.  I threatened.  Not my finest hour, by any means.  Here I am trying to coerce her into learning, when I keep having to repeat my own lessons over and over!  I breathed.  I questioned and listened.  She burst out with what she really wanted to do.  Eyes glowing, she told me how much she really wanted to cook something.

The apron was a gift from her bisabuela. :)

Since she was two, my first born has been telling me she wants to be a chef.  This is probably in part because of my reliance on the Food Network when she was small.  The TV was often on as background noise (I know, I know), and it was one of the few channels that Carlos and I both enjoyed that was always age-appropriate for the little ones.  Before he was even two years old, she and Joelito were staging epic Iron Chef battles.

Furthermore, she comes from a long line of good cooks on both sides.  I was born in Puebla, which at least guarantees that I will enjoy good food.  My mother and both grandmothers were excellent cooks.  My adopted grandma from England loved to cook and loved to share that with me.  She always encouraged me to have fun and experiment.  My inlaws are from Mexico and Puerto Rico, and make fabulous food.

Ariana was diagnosed with food allergies as soon as she turned three.  We had to eliminate wheat, corn, eggs, dairy, peanuts, olives (and EVOO), and green beans.   I had to start cooking everything from scratch, because there really isn't much available when it comes to processed food that doesn't contain at least one of those allergens.  I was also appalled at how clueless most people were about food.  I would explain that she had a wheat allergy and they would insist that she could eat bread or pasta because it was white, not wheat.  Or that butter didn't count as dairy.  I wanted to make sure that she knew what was in food first hand from an early age.  So pretty much from the time she could stand on a chair, she (and later each of her siblings), has been helping me in the kitchen.

Today, after listening to her desire, I reminded myself that this is one of the reasons that we homeschool.  She went to the computer and began looking up culinary instruction videos.  She watched several on knife techniques and how to chop an onion.  We talked about the importance of holding her hand so that her knuckles are next to the knife, not her thumb or fingertips (thank you, Anthony Bourdain!).

Then she radiantly set about making her dish of choice, a curried chicken salad similar to the one at her favorite tea shoppe.  She pulled the chicken breasts from the freezer and thawed them.  She filled a pot 1/2 full of water, added the thawed chicken breasts and boiled them.  She drained the water, cleaned the chicken breasts and shredded them.  She chose all the extra ingredients, from poppy seeds to cilantro, and added them, thoughtfully considered then rejected the idea of raisins, tasting carefully to make sure the seasoning was just right.  Finally, she served the chicken salad on croissants.  I limited my role to that of a consultant, and let her do all the actual work.

They were good.  Really good.  In fact, Carlos wanted another one, but they were all gone!  This isn't unusual.  She made multiple dishes for Thanksgiving last year on her own, too, including a delicious corn bread dressing from scratch.  She makes desserts for us on a regular basis.  By the time she was five, she would go fire up the stove and make sincronizadas for herself and anyone else who wanted a snack. 

I think there is something in our culture that makes us want to treat children's passions with a knowing, indulgent smile and pat on the head for the sheer cuteness.  But we don't want to take them seriously right now.  We might agree that there is potential for the future, and that they have an aptitude or knack for something.  But their passions at this moment are often viewed as nothing more than frivolous play.

While the details of her future culinary career change from time to time, Ariana has been saying for the last five years that she wants to have her own restaurant (most likely a tea shoppe).  Today, as I watched her competence and pleasure, I realized that this is serious for her.  Regardless of what she may attempt in the future, this is her passion right now.   It isn't just cute to watch a barely-turned seven year old cook.  This is what she wants to do.  And instead of just indulging her in it, I am going to treat this as seriously as she does.

We agreed that from now on, she will be responsible for at least one family meal per week, and most likely an entire day's worth of meals.  We will collaborate on menu planning, she will help me purchase the ingredients, and on the days when she cooks, I will be her sous chef, limited to assisting in any way she needs, but that she will be the chef.

I am looking into culinary classes for children in our area, and plan to make sure that she is able to focus as much as she likes on cooking during our days.  I don't know what she will do in the future.  I am sure she will eat ;) but who knows whether she will ultimately choose to cook professionally.  However, regardless of what she chooses, I want her to know that I take her dreams and passions seriously, and that I have confidence in her.  She will be much more apt to believe that then if I preheat the oven for her future by taking her seriously right now.