Cooking lesson 1: Cucumber skin is NOT FOR EATING!

We return home, victorious, with everything. Little J was running minorly behind schedule for his nap, and between being overtired and his bubbly, snotty, blocked nose, decided that sleep wasn't on the cards. So, the entire time E and I were in the kitchen, he railed and cried from his crib. There were some pauses, but none longer than a few mins.

Back in the kitchen....most of the ingredients for the quiche just required grating- the carrots, zuccini, cheese. I thought E would be capable of this, which she was, but under pretty keen supervision.

And then I chopped up the onion with their fabulous pink chef's knife. (I'm not joking, it's a gorgeous pale pink Japanese number, gloriously sharp.)

"You're not allowed to use that knife."

"Yes I can, I'm a big girl."

"No, Dad said that no one except him is allowed to touch it. Not me and not even you. He told me the other day."

"Ah, but he doesn't know what a good cook I am. I'm used to using dangerous knives."

E pouts in the corner for a moment, and then decides to get up close because she wants the onion to make her cry. It does, and then she pouts some more because her eyes are stinging.

With the quiche finished, next comes the salad. (Little J is still railing away next door). I pulled out the red capsicum and E said she adores them. That's great, so do I. After doing to pre-chopping, I got her to chop it into little pieces. She tried one, and then declared she hates it. I put some aoili in a bowl (she loves it on her chips) so she could try it with that. "But that's for CHIPS" she said, wide-eyed that I would even consider putting it with anything else. "I know, I know, just try."

Blurgh, no success. "What about with mayonnaise?" (a similar reaction on all fronts: MAYONNAISE?! and more blurgh faces.)

She was so good at trying the capsicum that I decided next she should try the cucumber with the skin on it. She adores cucumber, it didn't seem like such a leap.

I may as well have suggested she eat her shoe. "WITH THE SKIN?????!!!!!"

"Yes, just try it."

She pulled the skin off and went to eat it separately.

"No no, together. They'll taste better together."

WELL, the biggest pout for the day came out to play, she clamped her mouth shut and wouldn't say another word.

"But you're a big girl, you can try it."

Extremely emphatic head shake. Whimpering.

"Why not? I don't understand, you're not saying anything. Only babies don't speak, and you're not a baby."

And with that she whimpered and ran from the room. I conceded, and peeled the cucumber and finished the salad, thinking I was giving E time to cool off. Nope. She came in on her little white mobile phone, and passed it to me so I could speak with her mother.

In English:

"Um, so what is the story about the cucumber?

I shared

"Ah, well, in France we never eat the skin, so she has never seen someone eat the skin. But that's it?"

"Yes"

"Oh, so it is not at all serious then?

"No, it's really not.

"haha, ok then, well, I'll be home for lunch like we planned. Bye"

I think E was disappointed that I didn't look at all scared or told-off when speaking with Mrs.

The pouting continued into lunch, with E barely touching her quiche or salad. Mr and Mrs cracked a joke about Australia being full of rabbits (which I mis-heard as full of bread. I seriously explained that no, normally we wouldn't eat bread with the quiche, until I realised Mr had said 'lapin', not 'le pain'. He's not a vegie fan, so my voracious appetite for fruit and vegetables has thrown him for a loop.)

But, the next day, Mrs thanked me again very much for lunch and said how much she had enjoyed it. She loves vegetables (I had noticed her second helping of salad, and her keeness over the red capsicum.) She loves eating vegetables, and loved eating something that was fresh, not fried, not too much butter. A nice change.

After all of that, who would have thought that the person most enamoured with my cooking adventures would be her??