MAC & CHEESE: EVAN & BIBA
Believe it or not, DH have a softer side, which usually only comes to light when we are in the presence of our rather splendid nephew and niece, Evan and Biba.
Last week it was my turn to don the mantle of “jolly uncle” and look after them while my sister and brother in law attended what you young folk apparently call a “gig” by the popular beat combo he manages, The Lords of Flatbush.
The apples in the DH family do not fall very far from the tree and, when asked how they would like to spend time in the company of their beloved relative, the idea of Nintendo and CBBC were swept aside in favour of cooking, a fact which gladdened my fatty heart, even if their supper de choix was the dreaded Mac & Cheese, second only to pizza in the vile food stakes.
Still, as Evan stirred the cheese sauce and Biba carefully grated strong cheddar before layering them in a dish and topping with tomatoes and more cheese, it took me back to my own days as child where our kitchen was filled with the odd combo of smells that could only come from a mum cooking for a half Welsh, half Bengali family.
The end result was deemed a success by all concerned and I even forced down a mouthful or two myself, leaving the rest to be enjoyed by the little ones. However, the doting relative thing can only be taken so far and, when if came to the battle for the last “meaty crumbs” of a porkie pie selected specially for my visit, it was only the trembling of lower lips which prevented me from rediscovering my inner bastard as I handed them over to be sucked up by small, appreciative mouths.
Next time, however, I shall not be so generous. They have to learn the harsh ways of the world sometime and how better to demonstrate that that their uncle depriving them of their favourite food?