It was a lazy Sunday and chilling with the kids, my youngest is now in bed for his morning nap wife and eldest out and about and the middle child ready to pester.
“Sweeties daddy” says my 3 year old, slightly annoying but we have all been there, in fact I think I still do it now when I go shopping with the wife.
“So Esme do you fancy some chocolate?” Was this a daft question to a 3 year old? Of course but a great opportunity to get back in to the kitchen for two great reasons, cooking and getting messy with the kids and feeding my love of cooking.
So aprons on, sleeves rolled up and let the mess begin, whisking, saving the egg shell from being part of the mix as she tries to crush it in her hands and then pouring in to the baking tray ready for the oven.
The bewilderment and success has not even happened and she is overjoyed or is that because she has chocolate round her face and head in the bowl.
25 minutes later and what seemed an infinite “is it ready daddy” and hey presto.
The fridge called this time as I was as impatient as Esme, but once cooked and on the chopping board ready to be cut into squares. DO we make nice sized squares or big ones I ask.
“Big ones” she replies
Then we tucked in, eating as if we had been starved for a month we were two very happy souls with cheesy grins at this baking success. This will soon follow as Mrs B and our other kids return or wake to enjoy another great day of baking with aromas that linger long enough to make you want more.