Hanging out with Chef Dominic Chapman

There is an old showbiz adage that advises "Never work with children or animals." And in the context of a live broadcast, this is undeniably true. The presenter, in whatever situation, can be doing a sterling job on camera but should a child ever wander into view with a finger up their nose or if a randy old dog should decide to mount another in the background of a shot, then any sense of gravitas will go flying out of the window. In such circumstances, all the best a presenter can do is to smile, carry on and maintain some sense of decorum and credibility whilst chaos reigns supreme around them.

And this is sort of how it felt when I participated in another Google + Hangout recently, this time with Dominic Chapman, as part of Great British Chefs Cooking with Kids campaign. Dominic, who is head chef at The Royal Oak in Maidenhead, was demonstrating his recipe for Spaghetti and Meatballs with mini garlic bites with the help of his son Daniel. And I was following proceedings and cooking along with help from my son Finlay at home. And somehow, quite miraculously, we both managed to pull off producing a decent plate of food. I am talking about Dominic and myself here by the way and the other parents who took part. I would say that the best our children probably achieved was making a whole mountain of mess. But it was reassuring that I am not alone and that even Michelin chefs struggle working with their mini sous chefs.

Watching the video above will give you more of a sense of how things went. Whilst it's hardly laugh-a-long 'You've Been Framed' material, I think it captures at times, the tricky balance of working with children in the kitchen and trying to teach them something. Mischief and boredom are only just around the corner, especially at 36 minutes into the video, when a cheeky boy decides to headbutts his father. But you will notice that I dealt with that with utmost professionalism.

As for the meatballs and spaghetti, well they were pretty spot on. Especially with the addition of crunchy garlic croutons and a rich tomato sauce laden with hidden, healthy vegetables, all gobbled down for lunch. But personally, what lent weight to the dish, was seeing Dominic cook in his own home environment. Watching him juggle with the prep, juggle with frying, chopping, boiling, cleaning as he went along and juggling with his kids at the same time, made his recipe all the more trustworthy.

This wasn't just a recipe created by a professional chef, this was a recipe created by a Dad.

Extracurricular Vegetables

No one really likes to admit it but parenting is sneakily competitive. Listen in to the gabbled chatter on the playground before the bell goes and you will see what I mean. “Billy’s swimming is going great guns, so good in fact, that whispers are afoot that he could possibly enter for the country trials.” “Chloe has only been playing the clarinet for 6 months, yet there is no doubt that she will pass her Grade 4 by Easter.” And “Tommy’s grasp of trigonomics, latin and quantum mechanics has simply astounded everybody and just the other day MENSA was on the phone wanting to test his IQ, oh the tuition at the weekend has been soooo worth it.”

No doubt about it, extracurricular activity certainly reveals a lot about the drive and ambition of a parent, much to the chagrin of the poor four year old that has to live up to expectations beyond his or her control. 

Personally, what with the age that the twins are at the moment, I am just happy that they are enjoying their first year at school, making good, gentle progress and finding their own way in the world through play. I certainly don’t want to be that pushy parent, proudly boasting premature achievement.

Except maybe when it comes to food.

Yes, perhaps I do get a bit overbearing and obsessive when it comes to filling their tiny little brains with information about food, particularly when it comes to vegetables. I am not talking 4AM starts here, where I could sit them behind small desks, bare feet on the cold kitchen floor; whilst I bark and point maniacally at Power point slide show about brassicas. No, that would be over the top and quite possibly wrong. But at any given opportunity, if I can enthuse and educate them about wholesome legumes and fruit, then I will do so.

A great starting place is the supermarket. Brightly lit and full of colour, the fresh produce aisles are an assault on the senses and brilliant for engaging the twins in an adverse show and tell session. You can while away a good thirty minutes or so, going on an educational tour, believe me. But you do have to be careful though as supermarket managers don’t take kindly to having Comice pears ripped out of plastic bags or Dutch tomatoes, however insipid, being returned to the box with indents from tiny fingers.

Of course, a safer, ethical and more conscientious bet would be to visit a farmer’s shop, where in general, vegetables and fruits lay freely and are used to being manhandled. It is here that you can also introduce a sense of seasonality and pass on the message that it doesn’t matter whether carrots are wonky or not. Try not to be too worthy though. I once confused the hell out of the kids trying to demonstrate that oranges are not the only fruit. And it’s understandable really, I mean what have Sanguinello’s got to do with Uncle Simon and Uncle Owen anyway?

Fortunately, we also have an allotment which is fantastic for the twins. Again, not only does it bolster the notion that different vegetables grow at different times of the year but it also highlights the beginning and the end; the circle of life. At the start of the season, seedlings undergo rigorous daily examination as both pairs of little eyes draw close to potting trays in the greenhouse, sometimes crossing with the effort.

 Then once the plants start to grow and get transplanted to the soil, the care and duty continues as the twins help to water them and hoe surrounding weeds. A young cabbage or a leek will occasionally be destroyed in the process but that’s just the way it goes. The summer blazes past, if we are lucky, which is not often; and then in late August/early September, the harvest arrives, where they get to reap the benefits of all their hard work. OK, I am painting a rose-tinted picture here; the twins don’t get that involved. They do get excited though, when helping to collect the fruits of our labour. But mostly they like to weave in and out of the plot, dancing menacingly through tall, thick stems of maize, like true Children of the Corn. 

I suppose the main hub for the twins’ learning experience surrounding vegetables has to be the kitchen. Having prodded, squeezed and identified a variety of roots, leaves, bulbs and tubers with grubby digits and dirty fingernails, the proof comes in the preparation and the eating. With their help, we are still at the stage where baby courgettes and Swiss chard needs to be chopped up with scissors and as such, their ability to dice, julienne and brunoise is pretty rubbish. However, I look forward to the day when I can hand over a knife and teach them the ‘pinch’ and the ‘claw’.

Most important of all though, is that the twins enjoy their vegetables and fruit. Children are notoriously fussy when it comes to the green stuff, yet thankfully our two are willing to give anything a go and like most, if not all vegetables. There have been some challenges but nothing that can’t be solved by some gentle coercion and imaginative thinking. I struggled for ages to convince them that peas weren’t frog spawn in disguise until I found a recipe called Cheesy Peas. The resulting dish is certainly paradoxical, insofar that it looks far worse than frog spawn. In fact, it looks like vomit. But my kids love cheese. And now they love peas.

At the end of day, that has to be the ultimate goal really. For the time being, that they know, appreciate and love their food is good enough for me. Academic, cultural and sporting achievements can’t wait. I have to admit though, I was pretty chuffed when I sent them in with a kohlrabi the other day for show and tell.

Not one kid had a clue as to what it was. Not even teacher.

This post first appeared on the Great British Chefs blog.

Outnumbered at The DuCane

Feeding time at the zoo. Sometimes there's no other way to describe it. Within seconds of placing the plate on the table, it can end up on the floor raising a chorus of laughter followed by a shriek of exasperation. On some occasions, the carrot in the spaghetti bolognese is missed and gulped down in the blink of an eye. However, more often than not, it is spotted and becomes an interesting decorative feature that slowly slides down the kitchen wall. Inevitably, bowls become interesting hats but never ever after the contents are actually finished. Which in turn prompts howls of protest in the bath later that evening as dried rice pudding is brushed out of matted, greasy hair. Yes, welcome to the world of feeding wee bairns.

Still we've come a long way from those heady days of mucky little mouths and foreheads, stubby toes dangling down from high chairs and the slumped exhaustion that comes from scrubbing the kitchen floor for the twelfth time that week. The twins have turned into quite a nifty pair of diners, quite happy to sit in grown up chairs and eat whatever is put in front of them at the table. OK, I am painting a rose tinted picture here. It can still be quite messy as clumsy hands try to co-ordinate spoon and fork Isla is a total carnivore, Finlay is the sensitive veggie and it can be a struggle to get them to wolf down the vice versa. Plus they've picked up this annoying habit of shouting "we want dinner, we want dinner", thumping their fists down on wood in unison. God knows where they've got that from...................

But by and large, meals around the table are fun and enjoyable and pretty much encapsulate the family scene that I've always dreamt of. I believe that eating at the table is important and as we all get older, I hope that table will become the same social focal point that I grew up with. Eating out however, away from the safe, secure, wipe down-able confines of home is a little bit different and perhaps a slight return to hair pulling days of old (er Mrs FU hair pulling that is). We found this out late last year when we visited The DuCane in Great Braxted for lunch.

The drive out into the picturesque countryside to The DuCane, which received a barrel load of awards at the 2010 Essex Food and Drink Awards including Best Newcomer Restaurant, was surprisingly quick from the badlands of Hornchurch. Luckily the twins are still of an age where the soporific motion of the car sends them to sleep. No "are we nearly there yet? are we nearly there yet?" Which probably helped. Although the excitement quickly escalated once we woke them from their slumber and skipped across the car park hand in hand. Looking from the outside, though smart, I'd hazard a guess that The DuCane has spent the best part of its life as a regular pub before becoming a full time restaurant. So as we entered through the door, I must admit the sparse, clean decor inside threw my scent off a bit. In a kind of 'oh balls, this looks a bit posher than I expected' kind of way. However, as soon as we stepped towards the bar area, we were approached by a staff member who was very warm and welcoming and totally ignored the fact that my daughter had her index finger fully wedged up her nose. Which put me back at ease.

We were sat down in a pleasant window boxed area and immediately we deployed the weapons of mass distraction; colouring crayons, sparkly stickers and paper, before perusing the menu. Having peeked at their website the night before to do some homework, The DuCane was true to its word, locally sourced produce was high on the agenda. Their list of suppliers is comprehensive to say the least. At the time, the restaurant was running a lunch special of two courses for £13.00 or three for £15.50 and it was pretty hard to decide. In the end I plumped for a Salad of Sautéed Black Pudding, Chorizo and Pigeon Breast with Raspberry Sauce and Roast Braxted Pheasant Breast with Savoy Cabbage and Game Gravy with English Bilberries and Crab Apple Jelly. Mrs FU decided to go snap on the starter but opted for the Linguine of Sea and Shellfish Braised in White Wine, Saffron and Herbs. The children's menu was equally impressive. Sure the old stalwarts were there, chicken goujons, burgers and chips etc etc but there was a reassuring byline that everything was fresh, made daily by hand. The offer of 'simply grilled fish with salad and new potatoes' appealed to our cosseting parental sensibilities so we went with that for the twins. Oh and we ordered some bread.

We shouldn't have ordered bread.

Don't get me wrong, when it promptly arrived, the bread tasted fantastic, the tiny bit I tried. And the portion was plentiful too. Maybe too plentiful and tasty because the twins attacked it and after a gremlin-esque five minutes, it was gone. Naturally, with bellies distended with dough (and not to mention freshly pressed cloudy apple juice) their hunger factor had somewhat diminished. And from then on it became increasingly difficult to keep them amused at the table. When our very pretty looking starters arrived, I managed to keep meat eater Isla sat still for a short while by feeding her a few morsels of chorizo and pigeon but the allure of the toilet became too fascinating. It took five visits to realise that she was more interested in dancing under the hand dryer, having her hair whipped up like some pre-school Hannah Montana than actually going for a wee-wee. Fin on the other hand was convinced that the Gruffalo was in the garden and kept peering out through the window, shouting at said imaginary creature and clutching a round candle holder from our table like a hand grenade. Although he did also try some of the starter and wound up fashioning a neat little red moustache from the raspberry dressing on his upper lip. And then for some reason via some kind of mental telepathy that only twins possess, the two decided they should have an ugly face competition complete with fits and giggles.

So it pains me to say that when our main courses came along, everything was scoffed at high speed as Mrs FU and I plunged into the free fall of stressed parents worrying that their kids behaviour was going to affect the other customers. Yes some of us do care you know. The food was certainly delicious, my pheasant was beautifully moist but I'm afraid that the plates were cleared without much consideration. The fact they were cleared is a good sign but I do know that Mrs FU suffered from indigestion afterwards. I ended up polishing off the kid's fish with no side effects at all (it was lovely). But what, surely what could possibly get us so uptight that we felt had to rush things so? I mean Christ, they're only kids after all.

All eyes to Fin for this one, a dead ringer for Daniel Roche. Towards the end of our very brief stay, he decided to stand up on his seat and produce a perfectly melodious one-note piece of french horn from his bottom. I don't know if he did it because he was feeling uncomfortable or if it was purely for entertainment reasons but I do know that the elderly couple on the adjacent table heard it. And they weren't amused. I looked Fin sternly in the eye and said "Finlay! What do you say?"

"I farted", he replied.

As if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Seeing as he was being so honest, the only response I could muster was to stoically and sagely nod, left eye twitching. Firstly at Fin. Then to the grim faced couple. And then to the table. Trying not to burst out laughing. Thankfully, our waitress came along shortly after with the very reasonable bill and we all dashed out. I am sure we shall return in the near future as the plaudits heaped on The DuCane are certainly justified. But perhaps it will be just the two of us.

And have no fear, of course we shall continue to take our beloved pair to eat out more often. It's educational and fun for them and also for us, though I suspect it'll be a long while before we can expect anything remotely civilised. Like I said before, God knows where they get it from.

The DuCane

Salad of Sautéed Black Pudding, Chorizo and Pigeon Breast

Linguine of Sea and Shellfish Braised in White Wine, Saffron and Herbs.

Roast Braxted Pheasant Breast with Savoy Cabbage and Game Gravy with English Bilberries and Crab Apple Jelly

Simple Grilled Fish with New Potatoes and Salad

Daniel Roche gets bored easily

And Hannah Montana likes to draw