Why won’t modern mothers cook for their kids?
Much as I love cooking, like most working mums — I’ve three daughters under six — I never have enough time to devote to it.
some days, when I’m home late from work and the children are fractious, the idea of preparing a meal feels a real chore.
But once I start chopping and peeling, sauteing and steaming, I switch off and breathe. It’s a form of mindfulness.
And when I’ve made a healthy, delicious and sustaining meal it feels like time well spent.
so before you reach for a ready meal tonight, peer into the fridge and cupboards and see what’s hidden away in there.
Mums (and dads) need to relearn the old skill of being creative with food. We’re so used to having everything preprepared that we regard chopping and peeling as tedious, rather than something that is satisfying in itself.
As a child it was amazing what we learned to conjure from a cabbage, a butternut squash or a few onions — like magic! My mother was so resourceful.
It was a fun way to make sure we didn’t eat the same thing every night. Now I try to do the same with my daughters.
Instead of throwing away food, I wrap it up like treasure, and put it in the fridge or freezer for another day. It’s such a relief to come home from work (I co-own the Wahaca group of Mexican restaurants and write a cookery column and books) to find I’ve already done most of the work for dinner. Leftovers are the home cook’s secret weapon!
I believe healthy eating, good manners and social skills are all fostered by eating as a family.
When I was a child the kitchen was the hub of family life and we always sat and ate together. We ate in a sometimes convivial, sometimes frosty atmosphere — we laughed and played but we also fought and argued.
By not sitting down to savour what we eat we miss feeding our emotional side, chatting and enjoying each other’s company. I empathise with a desire for speed and convenience. But cooking tasty, sustaining food doesn’t have to be a burden. With practice, it becomes quick — and a pleasure.
I’ve spent thousands of happy hours in the company of those I love, around a kitchen table. I’ve thrown last-minute parties for 40 and dinners that grew from six to 14 in a day.
The secret to great fast food is organisation, which didn’t always come easily to me. In the early rounds of Masterchef, which I won in 2005, judge John Torode shook his head at my chaotic approach.
Now I get out all my ingredients before I start and have a bowl ready for scraps to avoid trips to the bin.
Nor is there calorie counting or ‘clean eating’ in my kitchen. In my teens I believed I should avoid ‘bad’ foods and as a result had a constant, gnawing hunger that made me veer between bingeing and fasting.
Yet my Welsh granny was a model — and adored cream and made glorious cheesy leek quiches while remaining elegantly slim. her diet was a bit of brisk exercise and an embracing approach to food. Guilt and food don’t mix. We shouldn’t think of eating as a constant exercise in self-denial.
When you start to enjoy cooking, your family will want to join you in the kitchen. cooking is how I nurture those closest to me: a house of well-fed people makes me happy, and I hope it makes my family happy, too.
Home Cook: Over 300 Delicious Fuss-Free Recipes, by Thomasina Miers, is published by Guardian Faber (£25).