KID STUFF

Watermelon ! My kids, Daniel and Ben. Grandkids, from left, Lucas, Nico and Leo.

A cheer went up at the table. “Yay, GranJan got it right!” Three kids, three different sandwich preferences. It took me several attempts to tailor-make each sandwich.

The fresh-baked buns (not too crusty) from a local panadería were fine with all. Leo, 9, likes mayonnaise on his ham sandwich, hold the cheese, with sliced tomato and lettuce too. Lucas, 8, won’t eat tomato, but loves cheese on his sandwich. He’s OK with lettuce. Nico, 5, prefers tomato on the side and might eat the bun with mayo and leave the ham. Or, surprise, the next time he wants everything and gobbles it up.

By now, I think they’re playing me for a patsy. But, with grandkids, that’s ok too. A little play is fun. Trying to give them what they want makes me happy. Succeeding at pleasing them is a joy!

All meals are kid-friendly. Even though there are four of us adults and only three of them, food is not spiced. Weaned on pizza, it seems everything except oregano is  “spicy” in the kid lexicon. Mozarella and oregano are as comforting as mother’s milk.

Nico and arepas.

That’s not completely true. Lucas and Nico have a Venezuelan abuela who makes them calamares en salsa (squid in sauce), with adobo spices including garlic, cumin and oregano—but, no chile. From her I learned that kids like their sauces smooth, with no identifiable pieces. So I put the onions and green peppers through the food processor; puree the tomatoes in the blender.

My nuera (daughter-in-law), Eli, made supper one evening of Venezuelan arepas, a corn-meal griddle bun, split open and filled with meat and cheese. (She brought the special flour from the US, as it isn’t a Spanish product.) Cousin Leo, who has an English accent although he lives in Spain, politely said that they were “very filling.”

Tuna-macaroni salad--favorite kid food.

I make tuna-mac, a lunch dish my sons (now dads) loved when they were little. Shell macaroni, canned tuna, mayonnaise from a jar (I blend it with some yogurt and no one is the wiser). However, I know not to add any chopped onion or celery or sweet red pepper. All that I serve on the side for each to add according to his tastes.

Leo and artichoke.

But there’s room for experimentation. Leo shows his primos how to eat artichokes, pulling the leaves off one by one and dipping them in mayonnaise. Artichoke eating has high entertainment value. Nico, who’s never heard of an artichoke before, calls them “party-chokes”. Nice.

In the garden, I show the kids how the uncut artichokes have opened into spectacular flowers.

Gazpacho does not score. All three kids grudgingly taste it. They make various sour faces. Try again next visit.

Lucas picks green beans.

Lucas loves green beans. He eats a huge serving of them, par-boiled and sauteed in olive oil. (I showed him where olive oil comes from--little olives on the trees.) He helps me pick beans from the garden for another meal. He also loves gambas a la plancha (jumbo shrimp grilled in their shells), but that’s a special treat.

Leo’s special treat is jamón con melón, slices of sweet melon with Spanish ham—serrano or, his favorite, “pata negra” ibérico.

My son Daniel, who is Lucas and Nico’s papá, makes breakfast omelettes for the crew. With grated mozzarella and chunks of hot dogs (not approved by management), they are a hit with the kids.

Leo likes watermelon.

Nico likes watermelon.

Everybody loves watermelon! They eat it out on the terrace where the drips don’t matter. Then Ben, Leo’s dad, shows the kids how to make a “melon-copter,” launching the melon rinds out over the olive trees into the arroyo.

Lucas launches a melon-copter into the arroyo.

Tonight we’re having hamburgers. I made a pinto bean salad, Spanish potato salad with lemon dressing, and  classic cole slaw. As all three kids declared they don’t like beans (except green beans), I put grown-up seasoning in the bean salad, but keep the potatoes and slaw on the bland side. Vamos a ver.

Next week, grandchildren will have departed. Think I’ll have some spicy Asian noodles. All by myself.

FOOD CRITICS, JUNIOR DIVISION

“GranJan, you’re a good cooker,” said my six-year-old grandson Leo. Observing that the kid really liked tuna, really liked pasta, I guessed that a summer pasta salad was likely to hit the spot with him. His dad, Ben, suggested that I was “a good cook,” not a “cooker”. But, hey, I’ll take all compliments with a smile.

The critics were not so easy on me a week later, when the other set of grandkids arrived. Anticipating hungry children and parents after a delayed trans-Atlantic  flight, I prepared what I thought was a sure-fire kid-pleaser, a classic Spanish tortilla de patatas, potato tortilla (potatoes slow-fried in olive oil with a little onion and eggs to set the mixture into a thick, round cake).

Nico, two and a half years old, hungrily took a bite and, blech, out it all came down the front of his shirt. Lucas, five years old, tried it and also rejected it, if rather more politely. Their father, my son Daniel, who grew up on tortilla, happily ate most of it. “Heinz catsup,” he said. “Needs catsup.”  (Confession: I served catsup with tortilla when they were kids. I was not after authenticity.)

Figuring to go with a winner, the next day I tried them on the tuna-mac salad that their cousin liked. Again, instant rejection. “It’s the chopped onion in it,” said Daniel. “They’re purists—pasta and nothing.”

I fared somewhat better when I took Lucas with me to the huerta to pick strawberries, green beans, zucchini, cherry tomatoes, onions and lemons. He was happy to slice the zucchini, which I sauteed with cherry tomatoes. Hold the onions; keep the fresh basil on the side where it could be easily ignored. And he astounded me by eating wedges of lemon.

It turned out that little Nico had an appetite for almost everything, as long as there were no onions. Pork, chicken, fish, asparagus, broccoli. A dab of mayonnaise was his gourmet sauce. Perhaps I’ll try that tortilla again one day before they leave.





Tortilla de Patatas
Potato Tortilla

Some tapa bars present super-size tortillas, almost 2 feet in diameter and more than 3 inches thick. They are cut into thick squares and served with bread. Tortilla also makes a nice supper dish and is terrific packed in a picnic hamper. In Spain, tortilla is rarely served with a sauce, but might be paired with a juicy vegetable dish such as pisto (recipe here ). Of course, you could always serve it with catsup or mayonnaise!

Makes 12 tapas or 4 main dishes.

½ cup olive oil
2 pounds potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced
2 tablespoons chopped onion (optional)     
6 eggs
1 teaspoon salt

Heat the oil in a no-stick or well-seasoned 9-inch skillet. Add the sliced potatoes and turn them in the oil. Let them cook slowly in the oil, without browning, turning frequently. If using onions, add them when the potatoes are partially cooked. The potatoes will take 20 to 30 minutes to cook.

Meanwhile, beat the eggs in a bowl with the salt.

When potatoes are tender, place a large plate on top of the skillet. Tilt the pan so the oil runs to one side. Holding the plate tightly, carefully tip the pan and drain the oil into a small heatproof bowl. Stir the potatoes into the beaten eggs.

Return a spoonful of oil to the pan over medium heat. Pour in the egg-potato mixture. Spread it evenly. Reduce heat and cook, without stirring, until the tortilla is set on the bottom, about 5 minutes. Do not allow the bottom to brown too much. You can shake the pan occasionally to make sure the tortilla doesn’t stick on the bottom.

Again, place the plate on top of the pan. Working over a bowl to catch any drips, hold the plate tightly in place and turn the pan upside down, reversing the tortilla onto the plate. Slide the tortilla back into the frying pan. Let it cook on the bottom, 2 minutes.

Lift the front edge of the tortilla and carefully slide it out of the pan onto a serving dish or cutting board. Cut into squares to serve as a tapa or into wedges if serving as a lunch dish. Serve hot or room temperature.