I wasn’t much of a cook before I had children. Once they were there, I soon realized that living with children means that your choice of sophisticated dishes is somewhat limited. „All they eat is spaghetti, spaghetti and spaghetti“, a collegue used to say. Nevertheless I had the ambition to cook – well, the way it was shown in all the wonderful cookbooks I called my own. It didn’t quite work out. For me the spaghetti were pancakes. I made innumberable pancakes over the years and at some point I couldn’t stand them any longer. There is something comforting in the simplicity of pancakes though. Even if the fridge is totally empty, eggs and milk are never out and there is always a neighbor who has flour and sugar, in case this is missing in your kitchen. No matter what day, be it hot or cold, the kids will eat pancake. You cannot do anything wrong with pancake. Meanwhile there are a couple of other meals with which I cannot do anything wrong. Potatoe-soup with a hint of olive oil for example. Anyways, potatoes. The past couple of years we spent our summer vacation on a farm where the elderly couple who rented the apartment to us, grew potatoes. In the beginning of July the new crop of potatoes begins and this was all we ate during the summer – the new potatoes cooked with the peel still on, with a little salt and butter on top.
Daughter One has always loved baking. The older she became the more she was interested in cooking, too. It was last year in summer, when I realized all of a sudden that I can almost share the responsibility for our meals with her. Unlike myself, she loves to do the shopping, too, and there are days on which I neither have to care about buying groceries, nor about the cooking. When they are on vacation they sometimes say good-bye to me with the words: „You go and get your work done and we’ll call you when dinner is ready“. When I come home I find the kitchen devastated and a three-course meal waiting for me. What more can I ask for I sigh, sit down and enjoy.