I’ve made a new friend on Facebook (Hi Michelle!) who is writing a cookbook for families, and pretty much every time she asks for volunteers to test her recipes, I say yes.
But not true to the intention of the book, I had yet to employ Jonah as sous chef, until today.
It took some convincing this morning to get him on board with the idea of cooking with me. Did I mention that he’s 2 years old?
The recipe was for a peaches and cream cobbler. Due to our outrageous overabundance of greengage plums, I decided to go with them as a substitute.
I washed and cut the plums into pieces, and then set Jonah up with a chair to stand on, the bowl of pieces, and the pan. He thoughtfully, carefully, moved the pieces from bowl to destination. I took pictures.
Next we mixed up the filling stuff together: brown sugar, corn starch, etc. Which he scooped into the pan, and then proceeded to massage into the plums for quiet, focused, contemplative, ages. When I called to Scott to come see (and take pictures) Jonah said, “Daddy, I’m working.”
Next came the sweet creamy layer, and then the batter layer on top. Kind of like an upside-down cake. Jonah performed excellent measuring, pouring, and stirring duties.
And then he demanded, “Want to taste it on my tongue.”
Now, I know we’re not supposed to eat raw dough made with eggs. But is it better at least if the eggs are from our own chickens? I grew up licking bowls of all kinds of batter. I couldn’t deny my son this simple pleasure.
After the cobbler went into the oven, he continued to stand there and lick the bowl clean, one fingerful at a time…
…the entire time the cobbler was in the oven (and I was doing the rest of the dishes).
And here’s the result:
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