Gratin di sardine con pomodori e capperi (or sardine gratin with tomatoes and capers)

 

The other night  our youngest had a meltdown little moment right before dinner, the kind only a four year old can regale you with. The kind that makes you wonder if you are plain dumb or if you missed something crucial because it takes you totally by surprise and you have no idea why it is happening.

The scene: the children's room. Toys strewn all over the floor. Dinner is about to be served.

The rule: whoever makes a mess, cleans up. When the job is too daunting for a four year old and a little overwhelming for him to tackle on his own for organizational reasons, we help and also give him some general guidelines (put all the animals into the green box, all the lego pieces go into the blue box).

Action: my husband gives him a hand; they seemingly work together in harmony and the job is soon done. Dinner is on the table.

Next thing we know, our son turns into a raving, screaming, three-headed monster. He starts throwing all his neatly stowed away boxes and toys all over the floor again, putting them the way they were before the clean-up.

Aha, you are thinking, he wanted to do it himself, he wants to assess his independence, Daddy shouldn't have rushed him.

 

Elba part 4 - Anchovies two ways (raw anchovies marinated in lemon juice and pasta with anchovy ragout)

Remember when I mentioned that my father-in-law had just bought 1.5kg of fresh anchovies and that I was going to help my mother-in-law clean them? Well, I was allowed to take pictures and clean about one before I was promptly pushed out of the kitchen. She is happy to share her culinary secrets and patiently lets me steal all her food from the kitchen to carry it out onto the balcony to photograph it in natural light. She is also happy to explain the steps to me and repeat them when I write my blog. But that is where she draws the line. I am not allowed to meddle in the kitchen. She has her routine, she is quick and I know when it is my turn to step aside. I was allowed to clean one anchovy to learn the process, but that was that. She doesn't say so in so many words, but I get the message. I am allowed to eat until my stomach explodes and then some more, but she is queen in her kitchen. I respect that and bow to her. It is my duty to spread her word, so I will continue to sacrifice myself by testing her recipes for you and taking a swim or two in crystal clear waters in between. It is a tough life, but for you I gladly endure this hardship.