« The child did wonders with flour, yeast, salt and water »

The ten -year -old, who is the most uninterested in food in our family, got a few weeks ago to an absolutely incredible Butter chicken. I could hardly believe it was true, even though I was there when it happened.

A dish she got to taste once in a food market in Copenhagen and could not forget. As soon as she got home, she started googling and checking out all the ingredients, she followed the store on her own initiative to ensure that everything she needed was purchased.

She got some assistance from dad by the stove, but oh what a butter chicken.
It was amazing that it got so good – but just that she cooked it!

That little mini would cook something so advanced completely myself is not something I neither planned for nor even dared to hope would happen. I have not teased my children in the kitchen, but they have always been allowed to participate when they have wanted. They have had to scale potatoes and carrots, soak rice, make salad dressings and marinades. With Dad they have baked, because I’m the worst on dough.

And yes, I have got a psychic break when there has been chaos – but they have always been involved.

Now that the toddler years hold on To run out of my hands on me I can sometimes be filled with a strange missing. Like a very special time, an era, is now over. There are few things that feel as meaningful as being needed.

But when Mini served me the plate with the Indian pot, it marked the beginning of a new era. I was not only impressed and proud. I was happy. Imagine getting more and more time with their children, instead of only exist for their children.

It’s a dream.

Nothing in this text, by the way, is about how to get « good » children. It is a completely irrelevant word in this context, the word I am looking for is autonomy. I had no idea that we may have helped our children get there, through time we spent in the kitchen together.

And this is what this text is about, to convey this discovery.

Good is something you are told that you are. Autonomy is self -determination, the right and the ability to make decisions and have control over one’s own life. To be independent and independent, to have influence over their own choices and actions.

It is an exciting concept because it has so many layers. Here is a goal, but also a way. Autonomy is a recipe, rather than a single property. Here is the raw material, which requires spices and various cooking tricks to become their strongest self – and here there is a call to the outside world.

Is there no bread at home, she doesn’t have to wait for us to shop or bake

In order for autonomy to arise, it must be a collaboration between the child’s internal driving force and an encouraging environment around the child. Self -determination, yes. But in order to have the ability to manage what you are entitled to, you need to be learned. Guided.

For both children and parents, the kitchen and the whole large world of flavors are an excellent arena for this exercise. I think it must also happen in just the speed, while you are still in the process. I do not want to stress my co -parents by adding another task – but if it is ever worth stopping and occasionally let a process take time, then let it happen in the kitchen.

If never otherwise, let it happen during the holidays.

During the semesters, jobs and school control our lives, we are excited and stressed. In our spare time we go with the children on different activities, we maintain them and compensate for all the times we do not do this by bringing them on things that we hope they think is fun.

What is fun always seems to be somewhere else.
Placed in another place, to another time. Abroad. This weekend. To the law.

But all the kitchens of the kitchen are probably so exciting and interesting – here and now. Only as a child understands what is happening and can be based on their own conditions.

Just what it is so they do on their own, Comes with suggestions on recipes you have never tried to cook yourself. The most touching was when the same child had to bake pita bread on their own. My mom came in and felt the smell of freshly baked bread.

– Nadia, have you baked?
– No, it was Mini.

The breads were just as puffy as they should be. Grandma took a bite and was sincerely surprised.

– But huh! These are better than mine!

Larger than anything else at that moment, was to see how Mini grew – not before us but in itself.

There is so much that I have a bad conscience in my parenting role, but with this I can allow myself to be satisfied and calm: there is no bread at home, she does not have to wait for us to shop or bake.

If she wants, she can do on her own with some flour, yeast, salt and water.

Nadia Jebril is a reporter at DN and self -proclaimed kitchenologist. Interest in food and flavors, everything man cooks and eats, how and why – has been around for as long as she can remember.
She lives in Lund and participates in Saturday magazine once a month with texts that are about life through food and about food through life. Here you will find several of Nadia’s texts.

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