Nix to the Niçoise – A Meat Free Post

As promised I made the Niçoise salad last night.  Truly it was delicious; steamed baby potatoes and beans, soft poached eggs, excellent quality tinned tuna in olive oil, tomatoes and cos lettuce with a dressing of red wine vinegar, olive oil and Dijon mustard.  What about the olives and anchovies I hear you ask? Well, Himself does not like either, so I put olives on mine and the Wee Girl’s after serving, and the Wee Girl only really likes anchovies on pizza, so I added finely diced anchovies to mine at the very end.

It was a very delicious salad.  Himself ate it happily; enthusiastically crunching the lettuce and sniffing up the potatoes.  I was thoroughly enjoying it too.  But then I glanced over at the Wee Girl and that’s where the enthusiasm hit a bit of a brick wall.  She’s very well trained, and will eat what’s put in front of her but it doesn’t mean she has to like it.  She was eating the lettuce with all the enthusiasm of the brains served in the afore mentioned post The Brains of the Outfit (with the exception of no dry heaving this time) probably for the best.

“Not a fan of lettuce for dinner darling?” “No.” With a look of stoic heroism she finished most - with the exception of some of the lettuce and then we cleaned up. 

After about half an hour… “I’m hungry” says Himself and dashes into the kitchen to grab a biscuit. “Me too” I admit “So am I!!” (This was from the other room where the Wee Girl was).  Damn still hungry!!  After wondering around the kitchen going through the cupboards about 17 times, and seeing the same non-inspiring items for about the same amount of times, I concluded there was nothing really to be had.  Occasionally from the other room “That was a nice starter Mum, when’s the main?” Cheeky girl…

So I suggested a glass of milk and slice of white bread and butter, which was met with A Look (this is what I used to offer the Wee Girl when, as a very wee girl she’d say ‘I don’t like this’ – for some reason she now eats whatever’s put in front of her) it’s now the going joke when a visitor is brave enough to turn their nose up at a perfectly good meal I’ve cooked. 

So a warning to potential guests, when you eat at our house you get two choices – take it, or leave it…

Anyhoo, the Wee Girl finally caved and had a large glass of milk when she realised that salad or no, dinner was done for the night.  I went to bed a bit hungry and not sure what Himself did to get himself through this time of famine.  But the general consensus was:

Ixnay to the Aladsay!