Junior-Junior has set me a challenge; he wants “pancakes for tea, pancakes for lunch, pancakes for snack and pancakes even for breakfast”. In a fit of weakness, I said yes. Of course we can’t make the same pancakes for every meal; even Jr-Jr would get bored of that, (probably). So we have a plan, and we’re going global.
March starts on Saturday, and I am looking forward to it with every fibre of my being. Every year I resolve to make peace with February. I focus on the little flowers, the days stretching out with a few minutes more light every morning and evening, the beauty of the stark branches, the joy to be had in a half-term holiday, hot chocolate and open fires, on and on with an increasingly desperate fervour.
The fireplace was where the middle cottager cooked, heated water, and made bread in a little brick oven off to the right. We still cook on the fire every couple of weeks or so in winter, just for fun really. I can stand up inside it, stretch out my arms and not touch the sides. It basically takes up an entire wall.
As a family we love to cook on an open fire. We do it pretty often, in one form or another, but perhaps the most frequent camp-cook isn’t outdoors at all, but in the living room. Now I hasten to add that we do actually have a fireplace in the living room. Otherwise this really wouldn’t be a very good idea at all.
Eating in unexpected places is thoroughly joyful, and the food becomes more interesting. In the same way as chips are never quite as perfect as when eaten from their paper wrapping, perched outside, any number of other foods become exciting and new when the meal is eaten camping out around the place, even if it’s just in the living room.