Simon's Blog - Life in a country castle

April 2010

‘Aprons on, hands washed and hair tied back please.’ Our usual ‘Little Augill Cooks’ cookery teacher is unavailable so Wendy has stepped into the breach.

Eight eager youngsters are awaiting instruction on how to make pasta, various sauces to go with it, tiramisu and maybe a few sweet things to take home at the end of the day.

Wendy knows she’s in for a challenge. Six of the children are seven and one has smuggled in his little sister Amy who is only five.

‘I know you don’t really take under sevens but she’s no trouble,’

pleaded her mum. We heard that one too many time about dogs before banning them from the castle. But Wendy could see the fatigue in her face and relented.

‘Now we have a busy day ahead so let’s get cracking.’ Ten minutes in, Wendy knows she’s going to need a stiff drink by four o’clock. ‘We’re going to start by making pasta. Who has made pasta before?’Eight hands shoot up. ‘Oh, OK’, Wendy is slightly taken aback, ‘well who can tell us how it’s made then?’

Joshua is quick to share his knowledge. ‘You boil some water and open the pack and pour it in. The others nod in sagely agreement.

“OK, well that’s sort of right but today we’re going to make it right from the start. Does anyone know where pasta comes from?’

A casual observer might predict the trap Wendy has just walked into. ‘Asda!’ exclaims Eloise excitedly.

‘No,’ frowns Freya, ‘Waitrose and mummy says it has to be fresh, not that dried muck.’ Joshua looks slightly crestfallen and declines to share the origins of his family’s pasta rations.

‘Italy’, Wendy interjects, ‘Italy is the country where pasta comes from.’

There’s a brief pause for thought, then, ‘well if we’re making pasta then it won’t be coming from Italy will it? It’ll be coming from England.’

Wendy fails to recognise the source of such intelligent logic and moves on. ‘OK, English pasta. Flour, eggs, olive oil...’ moments later there is flour, eggs, olive oil in various piles on the table, on the floor and on Amy’s head. ‘She’s annoying me,’ protests her brother, ‘I didn’t want her to come, mum made me bring her.’

‘Never mind, everyone continue mixing together your ingredients and I’ll help clean Amy up and perhaps we can find her mum.’

No chance, Amy’s mum legged it out of the door before the kids had even put on their aprons so Wendy promises she can be her special little helped for the rest of the day. Four o’clock can’t come soon enough but seems a hell of a long way off.

‘Joshua, we don’t do that in the kitchen do we? Go and wash your hands.’ Clearly Joshua had in mind his own recipe for pasta verde.

Then there’s a wail from Amy who has fallen off her footstool and is sitting under the table in a pool of egg.

‘Come on amy, let’s get you cleaned up. Again.’

The doorbell rings. ‘could it be Amy’s mum, returning wracked with guilt? But as I approach the door I know that it’s not just Wendy who will be reaching for that drink at four o’clock.

‘Hello Miss Hunt,’ I enthuse, ‘what brings you here?’ I hope she doesn’t see the panic etched on my face.

‘I’m here to do your unannounced environmental health visit and I noted that you’re also due for a health and safety inspection.’

‘Lovely, shall we go to the office?’

‘Shall we start in the kitchen?’ and she’s already puling on her white coat.

‘Children, Wendy, this is Miss Hunt, the environmental health inspector.’ The children seem non-plussed. Wendy, I’m sure is holding back a tear of despair.

‘Are you a doctor?’ asks Freya, checking out the white coat? ‘Have they food-poisoned somebody?’ Wendy whimpers.

‘No, I’m not a doc...’

‘Joshua, I’ve told you not to do that, we’ve got to eat this pasta for our lunch, now go and wash your hands. Welcome, Miss Hunt, to our Little Augill Cooks children’s cookery school.’

‘Thankyou, do carry on, I shall just observe if that’s OK.’

Twenty minutes later ribbons of tagliatelle are finally rolling out of the pasta machines, Joshua has had to wash his hands for a third time and is on a final warning to improve his personal habits and Amy has decided to stay under the table with a copy of The Rainbow Fish for company.

Miss Hunt seems happy with proceedings despite having been quizzed by Freya who tells her that her mummy says there are far too many busy-bodies and do-gooders trying to tell us all what to do. ‘Is that what you are?’

Later Miss Hunt takes it upon herself to inspect the kitchen and homes in on a two foot long wooden spoon.

The children are on to making the sauces to go with their pasta and one of them has cut their finger with a knife and got garlic in the wound. As I am calming the hysterical patient Miss Hunt brandishes the spoon at me.

‘This is not acceptable Mr Bennett, it’s cracked and the cracks can harbour germs.’

‘Oh don’t worry about that, Miss Hunt, it’s called Baboushka (Babs for short) and it’s only used for disciplining the children.’ In response to a raised eyebrow, I quickly add, ‘our children, only our children.’

I think Miss Hunt is computing the potential combined hazard of a bacteria infected spoon which has been in contact with naughty children’s backsides and in the event she simply says ‘perhaps it would be best kept away from the other utensils.’

A very reasoned response in the circumstances.

After a look at the other parts of the kitchen Miss Hunt declares herself  happy and asks if we can just complete some paperwork and go through our health and safety risk assessments before she leaves. I can hardly bear the thought of health and safety on an empty stomach and suggest that since the children are just about to sit down and eat their pasta she must join us. cShe shoots a glance at Joshua and then at the hand washbasin. “Erm, I think I need to be at another appointment shortly so we probably need to wrap things up, perhaps we could save the health and safety until another time.’

I’m almost ready to embrace Joshua and his tasty nostrils and wonder how we can orchestrate his return next time the inspector calls.