76. Sunday lunch with a twist (2/4)

Miss Math-Head's turn to cook Sunday lunch. She has a long shopping list, neatly handwritten, with check boxes for me to tick. The first thing that strikes me is the amount of alcohol on that list.

When questioned, she replied:

'It's a surprise lunch. Don't ask questions. Just buy the stuff. Please! Thank you.'

I have to do the shopping because she is currently working on satellite trajectory. I cannot argue with that point, it is definitely more useful to calculate the speed of satellites above our heads than to go to the supermarket. So I take Miss Organiser with me on what she calls a wild goose chase. On my own I would have lost patience trying to locate all these items in our local supermarket:

- fresh fennel
- fennel seeds
- Limoncello (alcohol)
- Amaretto (alcohol)
- Prosecco (alcohol)
- rosemary, potted plant, not dry
- saffron
- organic lemons
- ...

And it went on and on, two columns on an A5 page.

'Italian, definitely!' piped in Miss Organiser. 'And boozy! Which does not surprise me with the amount of partying they do in that school of hers.'

Well, there has not been many satellites crashing down to earth, so I'm thinking booze must be good for the brain. But I keep that quiet.


- 2 kg of Mozzarella

'2 kg? Are you sure?'

'That's what it says on the list. If we do not get exactly what's on the list, she'll have a fit and we'll have no lunch.'

We persevered.

- chicken drum sticks
- chicken thighs

I pick up a packet of chicken legs from the shelf. 

'It says chicken drumsticks and chicken thighs. We need to get exactly what's on the list!'

My heart sinks. What do teachers teach in schools these days? What did she learn during all these summers in the country? All these chickens she saw being chopped up under her eyes? Nothing!

So I take the pen and at the back of the shopping list I draw the anatomy of a chicken leg. 

'OK! Fine! I get it. But you do the chopping.'

I sigh. And raise my eyes to the ceiling. 

When we got home, she came to unpack and inspect.

'I said chicken drumsticks!'

I sigh. Again. And raise my eyes to the ceiling. Miss Organiser chuckles and looks at me with a I-told-you-so look.

I despair and think we might get a few satellites crashing down on us with that new generation. I repeat the lesson 'anatomy of a chicken leg'. 

'OMG! And you've never taught us that when we were kids! Honestly mum! When I'm a mother I will teach my child to chop a whole chicken into pieces to cook it! That's SO important!'

I sigh. Again. And raise my eyes to the ceiling.

Then she sticks two A4 sheets on the fridge. One is the menu (why so many courses!) the other is a planner: every task listed in oder of preparation time/cooking time/and oven temperature. Honestly it looks as complicated as the maths for the satellite. 

I sigh. Again. And raise my eyes to the ceiling. I'm getting good at this... 

On Sunday morning I eventually venture into the kitchen: it's 12:00 and the chicken legs are still raw legs. She announces that the planner has been lost under all the pots and pans and peelings and jars of spices. So she says nothing when I help with the cooking. 

We - again - ate lunch in the middle of the afternoon (no elevenses this time as the many courses meant we had to come to table hungry!). The meal was truly enjoyable and I loved the Prosecco starter and the Limoncello liquor! We found the menu:

Aperitivo (Prosecco/leek and tomato canapés)
Antipasti (home-made focaccia/olive oil dip/olives and cold meats)
Primo (spinach and ricotta cannelloni)
Secundo e Contorno (southern Italy chicken with fennel and couscous)
Insalata
Formaggie e Frutta
Dolce
Caffé (served with home-made amaretti biscuits)
Liquore (Limocello)

04/June/2020