Boma Jacket
I had multiple dishes going on in the kitchen because we are trying out all the new Hinds Mayo Sprinkles which we mix with NOLA Mayonnaise for the best results. It was an ambitious, balancing across different burners and the glowing oven, each station demanding attention like an impatient child. At the risk of making any mistakes I called Shalo in to lend a hand. He traded in the gaming, stepping into the kitchen with that cautious reluctance every kid has when pulled from binging they call it....into any kind of "work". The boy is on school holidays and I am certainly not letting him game and watch TV all day, everyday. His day is structured in a way that lets him engaged. There are his dogs that he has to spend time with, perfecting his basketball swooshes, reading his newest read....and least favourite for any kid on holiday. Revision from end of term exams and starting on school holiday exercises. He isn't always the happiest to cut a video game soccer match in half, but he understands why it's important. He knows the rhythm of our house, where work precedes reward and where learning builds the foundation for everything else. So he washed his hands, dried them, and stood beside me, ready to face what was put in front of him. The potatoes that had been quietly sitting in the pantry waiting for its moment took centre stage. I have a bit of anxiety baking potatoes as it's not something I do often. There is always a nagging fear of the undercooked core, that tragic moment when you slice into a skin only to find the interior resisting the fork, or turning into a dehydrated, leathery something. I always believe that in the kitchen with good guidance and confidence you can do anything. And that's exactly what we did. Cooking is rarely about perfection on the first try; it is rhythm, observation, and trusting the process even when the nerves try to tell you otherwise. Our simple yet fancy meal is baked potatoes which are scooped out. Insides mixed and matched with a few things and put back inside.
