As a kid I was duped a bunch of times into eating things I wouldn’t knowingly eat. Curry chicken stew with a side of boiled white rice was a staple in our house for a while. I would help mum cut the carrots and onions for it. We would brown them of in some butter and scrape them into the huge silver boiler on the stove. It wasn’t until I was a bit older I learned it was in fact rabbit. Curry Rabbit Stew. Mmmmm mmmmm. I will admit it was delicious and very yummy even as an eight or nine-year old.
Wednesday night in our house has sort of become the weekly roast night. It’s the one day of the week I am generally home to cook something elaborate and delicious while racing around getting housework done. Tonight was going to be roast “lamb”. I prepped it with a marinade of sea salt, cracked black pepper, garlic cloves, rosemary and olive oil, beaten to a pulp with my mortar and pestle. I rubbed it into the leg and placed it into the baking dish, covered it with foil and popped it into the oven at about 10.30am on a very low heat.
The smell filled the house and welcomed the boys as they walked through the door after school. “Smells good Mum” says one, and the other says, “is that the goat leg that was in the fridge?” “Nah, it’s not, that went out of date and I had to throw it out. I zipped out this morning and got a leg of lamb instead” while I bent down to hide my smirk. My reasoning was apparently valid after I assured him that I wouldn’t lie to him, it is definitely lamb.
So bread mopped up the gravy on empty plates, whilst one boy chewed on his ‘lamb sandwich’. The dog sat beside me waiting for some scraps, and it seems that the roast was a hit. The meat was sweet and fall apart tender, with the just-right amount of saltines and a hint of rosemary and garlic. Delicious without a doubt.
Ben and I whispered about telling them, sniggering between ourselves and in a passing comment, I ask Mitch how his roast goat was? With the biggest ‘you’ve got to be kidding’ smirk he bleats, I knew it! You bloody lied to me! … Well, I did, sorta, I admit, but just a little white lie to help you experience something yummy I reasoned while laughing.
Being fooled by your parents to eat something you wouldn’t try on your own, whether its mashed peas in potato or medicine in cordial, is mandatory. We have all done it as a parent and no doubt I’ll continue to do it even if it’s just to get a reaction from them.
Perhaps I’ll cook a Curry Chicken Stew tomorrow night, while singing My Highland Goat?
Make sure you turn the teapot twice clockwise and once anticlockwise!