In which #1 goes out into the big wide world
For the last…ooh…ten weeks, #1 has been eagerly anticipating his school trip. It was extra special as places were awarded on merit (trumpet blowing? Moi?) and as soon as he knew he’d got a place he began asking, frequently daily hourly how long to go until the big day.
Saturday, then, one day to go, sees him insisting on doing his own packing and eagerly charging up every conceivable electrical gadget (‘it’s a long trip, Mum’). His normally tidy bedroom is in turmoil with a delighted Bertie perched on top of all the mayhem (he’s had several hundred hugs and kisses goodbye already and is hoping for a few more). I wonder vaguely if he needs any washing done. ‘Ah, yes’, comes the answer, along with a worryingly small basket of laundry.
Sunday morning, half an hour before we need to leave, and he’s all packed: he’s borrowed a mobile phone, got his DVD player, #2′s iPod (secured with confectionery bribery), Nintendo DS, Sony PSP, vast piles of games, random DVDs (half of which he had to put back – ‘er, sweetheart, I really don’t think you should watch American Pie – at least for another few years yet’) and he’s standing eagerly by the front door. The conversation goes something like this:
Me: ‘Have you packed any underwear?’
#1: Blank look.
Me: ‘Pyjamas?’
#1: Blank look continues.
Me: ‘Toothbrush? Toothpaste? Shampoo? Shower gel?’
We head back upstairs, five minutes before we need to leave, me fuming and him looking vaguely bewildered, wondering what all the fuss is about. It turns out he’s got two pairs of boxers clean. ‘But I asked you to give me your laundry!’ I fume. ‘I did!’, he squeaks, ‘I picked it all up off my bedroom floor’. ‘And did you actually get any laundry out of the laundry bin?’ ‘Er…no’. My face is starting to turn hot and red and – inevitably – I boil over into a motherly bout of hollering: ‘So let’s get this straight – you’ve stuffed your bag full of gadgetry but are presumably planning to spend a week in France stinking like a skunk with two changes of underwear and extremely furry teeth?’
We spend the journey to school in silence – me gently simmering and #1 in the back still frantically trying to force his hastily assembled wash bag into his overstuffed holdall. We arrive at school and he rushes off to compare electronic equipment with his mates, then comes back when he remembers he forgot his wallet containing his carefully saved pocket money and proceeds to clear out my purse instead.
Finally, the coach leaves - look out, France, here they come - shiny, happy faces beaming from the window. And, waving, I realise the car’s on vapour, he’s not taken his seasickness tablets, and I’ve forgotten my credit cards and have just given him all my cash. I’m hit by a rush of emotion: my firstborn baby – my scatterbrained, disorganised, affectionate, know-it-all, dithering, infuriating, mad professor of a child – is all growed up and off on his first big adventure. God help us.
#1′s Chocolate and Raspberry Cheesecake
Disreputable Dad, having recently discovered technology, is now able to berate me by email (typed, apparently, over several hours and with one finger) as well as phone, and says he doesn’t read the recipes. So here, for everyone except DD, is #1′s chocolate cheesecake. Well, I couldn’t find a chocolate cheesecake recipe anywhere that didn’t involve either baking it (he didn’t want a baked one) or faffing about with leaves of gelatine and all that rubbish. So, in the spirit of pushing culinary boundaries, I made one up. And, happily, it’s turned out alright. Here goes:
100g butter
300g pack of chocolate digestives
500g cream cheese
100g icing sugar
200 ml cream
Bar of Green and Black’s dark chocolate (the smaller one not the monster)
So, cut a chunk of butter (it was about ¼ of a big, 1lb pack, so roughly 100g) but you could use a bit less if you’re a supermodel, or dieting or whatever (but then what would be the point of eating a cheesecake stuffed with cream and chocolate?), then break up the biscuits with a potato masher (very satisfying, but you could do it in the food processor) so they are just crumbs. Melt the butter in a jug in the microwave then stir into the biscuits. Press into the bottom of a springform tin, then put into the fridge to cool.
Meanwhile, break up your chocolate, melt it in a dish over a pan of hot water (NOT in the microwave, heathen!), and leave to cool slightly (my Mum added that bit when I told her what I was doing). Put the cream cheese (it was 2 ½ packs – you probably could use three but it seemed an awful lot) into a bowl and sieve the icing sugar into it. Beat it all together, then add your cooled chocolate and stir so it makes a nice gooey mess. Whip your cream (that was my idea!!) and fold it in. Pile it all over the biscuit base and leave to cool in the fridge.
I’m going to make a sugar syrup with a half and half mixture of water and sugar, then reduce it and add the raspberries, then pour it on top of the cheesecake, but hey, do what you like, it’s your cheesecake.
