My Secret Weapon

In the ever present war between my and my children which revolves around me getting them to eat bits of left-over food and them disdainfully refusing, I have one mighty powerful secret weapon. The Smoothie.

Into the blender goes slightly aged banana, cut up peaches (I excise the bits the fruit flies have got to, of course), molasses (for iron), some soya or cow's milk, and a bit of honey, brown sugar or date honey to sweeten. If its a hot day some ice cubes as well. If they're a bit protein starved a big dollop of yoghurt. If we have some a splash of parav (non-dairy) or, occasionally, regular icecream.

These concotions are generally received with acclaim and downed with relish. Of course if I push the envelope and put in odds and sodds like wheat germ, barley grass, alkaline powder (because they don't eat enough veg and the body tends to become very acidic - an environment in which viruses thrive), left over trail mix the younger one, he of the curley locks and fussey palate - will refuse it with a polite "I don't really like it abba." The older one will eventually half surface from whatever book he is reading, extend a hand and fish around for the glass, possibly connect with it, hold the glass aloft in the air for another four or five pages, and then drink deep, so that a layer of pink or orangie liquid coats his upper lip and the fine fine hairs of his nascent mustache. "Excellent Abba, thanks very much" he'll say, "it tastes like coca cola."

If I'm in a sneaky unbalanced mood I may throw both caution and decency to the wind, and even experiment with dropping in things like old pizza, celery stalks, chinese broccoli,slightly off ricoota cheese, etc, but then guilt and cunning will make me compensate for, and disguise the taste of, aforementioned noxious ingredients by throwing in a chocolate biscuit, or masses of brown sugar, or a few dessertspoon fuls of milo. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. But I'm managing to empty out the fridge without having to give everything to our spinifex mice, worm farm or, worse still, the rubbish bin.