My mum`s foodprint

Lets`s try to be, to get or at least to think sustainable. Whatever it may be, as I get through the holidays, I notice that quite some people are focusing on the subject of sustainability. And that`s for the better. The more I cook, eat and think about food the more I feel conscious about food processing. Feeding my family and studying the allergy issues since the last 12 years with Solange, the more I know that we were since long thinking in a more healthy and kind of sustainable way about food. My first awareness about food has been developed by my mum as she happened to be an avant-la-lettre in the field of knowledge about food and pointing out the relation between food and a healthy body. Although I remember plates sprinkled with gravy, those memories go back very long ago. The real thing I do remember about my youth, is the responsability she transferred to my siblings and myself about feeding ourselves. And taking food seriously was for her directly linked with eating less meat, lots of vegetables and fruit and avoiding animal fat in general. No sauces, no butter and no mayonnaise. The average amount of meat my mother served us, as children and later as young adults, was never more than 75 gram daily and there were days without meat. Although the dishes weren`t so large in variety and the design was often like meat, vegetables and potatoes or rice (pasta became much later an ingredient of the diet) and a dessert of yoghurt with fresh fruit, I truly believe in the thoughts behind her diet. As she worked for years with cancer patients in different clinics in The Netherlands, she must have become anxious about health and even if the topic of food and health wasn`t something bothering many people, my mother was aware. I should really try to get notes from her about this issue and write more about it. Speaking with a friend last week - he works for an international organisation and is through his work focused on the undeveloped countries and populations - he mentioned that this food issue about less meat and so on isn`t really keeping him busy. And yes it is so true that the meat production in general on our planet is not the problem of the Africans nor the Asians. And I do agree with him that animals are serving mankind and not vica versa. So in the end I think there is this list of really interesting issues to discuss and to study more deeply: how should we feed ourselves in a healthy way? The way we feed ourselves has undeniable consequences for the planet. The production processes are destructive (you`l know after watching the film Food Inc.) and yet with millions of more people to feed in the near future how can we feed all these humans? The fact is that everything is so connencted to each of the elements of the chain. It is all about a new pyramid. And still the old one from Maslow is so actual.

Gingerbread Village

Leaving Rabat for the holidays. Most people we know here in Rabat, seem to travel and are more or less looking for spots with snow. The girls do request white landscapes. Solange remarked that the decorations were not as eye catching in the city of Lausanne as she thought they would. In Olliet, a small French village, 90 habitants, in the L´Ain department close to Geneve we overlooked the Mont Blanc. The sisters revisited Olliet to construct together with their three friends an amazing nice gingerbread village. A village almost as small as Olliet: dream houses, farms and mansions. Thoughts how to put on the roofs, designing light architecture became mathematical issues. Our host was well prepared, all the props were there. Colored candies, pearls, small figures and wooden sticks were all present at the table. The five girls and the boy made drawings for their own project and the gingerbread dough was house made and baked in advance. The small paltform next to the stairs changed into a working spot of an architecture office. In the evening construction elements of all different buildings were nicely laying side by side on baking paper, waiting for the next day. Windows were filled with melted sweets which gave them a glass painted look, magnificent. White snow frosting served as cement to put walls and bricks together. After two days the village was set up on a small black dark wooden table from Africa in it´s first design. The setting will be adapted and finished in the next week. Our friends plan to bring the village, after the holidays, to their school in Geneva. Solange felt good all the time although a little bit sniffy. She took some medications to keep here nose open. Solange´s friends told her at the beginning of our stay, they scanned the house for peanuts and nuts. Mission completed and full clearance. The house smelt after gingerbread. Good memories go together with the smell of good old home made ingredients and recipes.

Foodprint USA - Home

Foodprint USA - Home

All places, all food

It is the season apparently. Every year in december I feel we are getting ready for another absorbing twelfth month. Probably because we like to start with a blank sheet at the first of january. The rush is amazing. Last moment appoinments, just in case we won´t meet before Christmas. Dinner parties, baby welcome aperitifs, good bye parties and auditions.
A nice occasion one of these december evenings: hanging out with some adults, kids, enjoying nice food.
One girl with us, two are invited elsewhere. Today was a long day of driving between agenda´s and appointments. Socializing divided by five and multiplied by invitations becomes a fulltime buziness. 
It is nice to zap from house to house and share food and drinks in differents settings. Taste and interior differ and it is true that one can´t argue too much about taste. All places, all food: fish soup, Italian dessert, German white wine, christmas cookies and small aperitifs from a traiteur in Rabat. As my maid explains it, the average traiteur comes with an assortment of small pieces of food that suits the average European. I am a European but I don´t like the foodprint they put on me.
During the night I filter the images of the last week and see the faces again of all the people I met. Socializing is interesting when you can have it in small portions. I have a last visitor, but she is a real personage. It´s Belle who comes in my bedroom with tears and a swollen lip. She has an allergic reaction. I´ll give her the claritine medication and she rolls herself up in the bed.
As this happens to be the second food related reaction for Belle this month, I´ll need to check with the allergist about Belle. Are we having a second child with food allergies? Let´s have a healthy night sleep and see things clear in the morning.

Hi, I am allergic

A sleepover, new friends. Asking or even claiming a parent to come along to give an explanation to these folks  about her allergies. New friends, new strategy?
'I am not going to tell them, myself.' OK that sounds as a good opening sentence.
'We want you to be the one to tell about your health, the specific diet: yourself'.
Has allergy something to do with power. Could it be that an allergy girl gets completely fed up with the fact of being allergic? And the need to tell the story again and again? Is it about peers? Do they, or do they just not, get the message? Is it about feeling annoyed to explain the food  issue with the parents of your friends? Is it just about teasing your parents?  Should we be more persistent and tell her that she is in charge and responsible for her body, health and food. We took off anyway and brought the girls to their new friends. Solange's dad explained and talked about peanuts and nuts in general. We could register our story and some recipes as backup for all those new friends from Solange. To make it for everybody easier. And this could be really fun.

Parents, kids, worries

This month is particular about food. So we will have to make some plans and lists before travelling and sitting down for dinners and aperitifs here and there. Although we will be eating with friends and they are all aware of Solange's food diet, I will make sure everything will be eatable for Solange. We had some socializing last weekend and met with new and old friends. I received a similar reaction as some time ago: her allergy isn't so bad. OK. It's always important to place one's worries or problems in a reasonable perspective, so if Solange allergy is my problem than I should try to place it in a larger context and conclude that it isn't so desperate as I think it is. The discussion is interesting and not ended.

There was a woman who has a daughter who spends hours in front of the mirror before leaving for a rendez vous with peers. Another parent told, she deals with daughters who are apparently now and then recognized as boys, she wass really cool about this all. In fact these kids seem to feel both happy in a kind of boy's outfit. So there we were, three parents with all daughters and all facing completely different worries with our daughters. Is one of these issues more or less important? Maybe not. I do think, that suffering from food allergies is connected to health and therefor to social events and this means, you can't ignore the large impact.

Solange's energy

Saint Nicolas seems to be a never ending happening. Staying at the house of my sister in Amsterdam, the girls are having a sleepover with their two cousins. In the evening they put their shoes in front of a Chinese cupboard in the living room. By lack of a chimney this red piece of Chinese antique serves this goal perfectly well. Five shoes on a row, carrots for the horse and a whole repertoire of songs for Saint Nicolas. Anne Frank celebrated Saint Nicolas in 1943 in the annexe. It was the first time in her life she celebrated this Dutch event, she was thrilled with the tiny presents and the poems distributed by those who took care for those hiding Jews.

We as parents do enjoy the entire ceremony as much as our children. How much you believe is not even a thought, the mystery lasts forever if you want. In the period of the three weeks until the 5th of December, Saint Nicolas is a stream of positive energy and a time of sharing, singing, writing and hoping for the Saint to come.
Energy and to maintain the balance of flows of energy is the theme of an exhibition in the Royal Tropical Institute (KIT) in Amsterdam. For the Chinese people, energy is a compilation of thoughts, behaving, feeding, moving. Solange was born when we lived in China, 12 years ago. I wonder if her energy is not partly caused by the Chinese philosophy. It is brilliant, their way of comprehension and how a special kind of tea makes a complete difference. The China Tour exhibition finishes with a activity to collect qi: energy. Driving home children's voices, loud and clear, sing en beg for sweets and toys, having been nice all year long.

Anne Frank's Diary

Amsterdam, The Anne Frank House at the Prinsengracht. Again, we were deeply shocked by the story of Anne Frank. We took the stairs behind the book shelfs upstairs to the famous annexe. Anne Frank lived here with her parents, her sister and four other refugees to hide for the Nazis. We are confused by the history, the lack of resistance of the Dutch people in general. Looking at the pictures with the long rows of Jewish people walking through the streets, heading the road to the end of their lives. The modesty of the different rooms is breath taken. Anne decorated her walls so nicely with images from magazines. You feel so small while reading the notes in the museum and watching the video images. Anne Frank's amazing way of clear understanding and the cry for freedom. Wandering if she would be one day not only a Jew but just a human. We looked up to the blue sky, which appears through the window in the roof. Fragments from Anne's diary spin in your head. Solange explains and tells us from her readings about Anne Frank. Points out where the furniture stood and who lived where in the annexe. The windows are covered with black fabrics, rayons of daylight hardly enter. While Anne Frank asks for understanding, respect and freedom for every religion, race and human being , the Swiss decide today in a national public voting whether to stop the construction of minarets. Political parties focused on national identity will be more than amused by this outcome. It will certainly encourage the discussion on the place of the Islam in Europe. Tolerance can't be taken for granted and political leaders have to fight for it.

Walking through the streets towards the Dam and the Royal Palace, we enjoy a hot cocoa in the magnificent Bijenkorf mall. The girls are tasting the warm dark liquid, served in a thick glass and taking a bite of their gingerbread and spicy cookies. Free to drink what you like, to walk where you feel like, to spend time with those you choose, to believe in Saint Nicolas, all so precious and so unbelievable, Solange is just the same age as that Jewish girl at the Prinsengracht who could only describe her feelings and her longing for being free again.

Sweet Dutch and Jewish delights

Candle light and a visit of a mystery guest. While overseeing the canals of Amsterdam and with street lights flickering in the evening, we are comfortable inside. Amsterdam in early December is as good as you can imagine.We forget that we are tired from the early wake up call in Rabat. It has been almost two years for the girls that they were here for the last time. A taxi brings us straight to the apartment of the painter and her lover. The steep stairs are waiting for us after the front door and bring us to the fourth floor. The canal house is situated along the largest canal of Amsterdam: De Oude Waal. The room has a view and we admire the tall canal houses at the opposite side from the canal. House boats in the canal, women in fancy outfits on their bikes. I enjoy the clouds and do love these famous Dutch skies. Sweets at the table and a Jewish ginger cake. The dough is so good. Solange is in a winning mood: being in Holland, friends, family, cousins and all the food she likes is at the table. The table is nicely decorated and the ambiance is just right. The light is soft, the blue violet flowers are exactly fitting with the pastel colours of the season sweets. These small meringues figures are all about Saint Nicolas and his attributes. In the meantime David prepares home made pasta with the girls while they try to walk around with the high heels of the painter. Evening falls. A knock on the door and a notion of expectation. A slip of his red coat, his mitre and his golden staff. The Saint is here! 

David's recipe: Jewish ginger cake
Butter 250 gr, 180 gr of brown sugar, 225 gr of flour, 1 egg and some salt. One can of ginger in juice. make a crumble dough and put it in the cake form. Use the tips of your fingers to distribute the dough at the buttered bottom. Cut the ginger in small pieces and put these on the dough, don't use the juice.

The taste of Amsterdam

Solange says: ''It's gonna be amusing Mummy to wake up there, going into the streets and to hear the people speak Dutch everywhere we go. I never hear the Dutch language around us only at home.'' Who knows maybe we catch up with some Arabic too''. The sensation of going to Amsterdam is in the air. We will absorb life in Amsterdam and visit some historical and cultural places. Visiting family.

We will certainly run into Moroccan people in the capital. The Mair of Amsterdam has an issue with the third generation Moroccans in Amsterdam, they are creating lots of problems and have a bad press. These young people are confronted with the generation gap with their parents. Who came from Morocco and never get integrated in the Dutch society. Unless integration programs today, it is hard for them to feel part of Dutch society. The young Moroccans, some of them, are having hard times and are without real perspectives. A huge part of this third generation does well, goes to school. Some among them enter the highest level of education. While living in Rabat we get sometimes annoyed by the isolated cases certain TV channels like to point out to the audience. It really seems, if they are the only troublemakers and they become the main subject for some political parties. I often miss the real debate, real diplomacy and it looks like a easy topic when economy is still in crises.

Education will be the best way to solve most of these problems and positive attention will help. Last year while doing some shopping in Amsterdam, I spoked to some young Moroccans who worked at the toys department. They were so enthusiastic about the fact that I live in Rabat, they came with stories of their youth and family. Some asked me what I thought about the negative image they have in Holland. I felt inconvenient and told them about the great Moroccans we know. The school situation of our children is privileged in a country were the school situation is often still deplorable.
The very optimistic thing is  learning in a environment in which all kind of children from all different backgrounds, religion, nationality are together. What the girls like about it, is the natural constellation of all varieties. Variety means different food, tastes and colours.  Although a little Tajin tired, the girls learn to eat these dishes. The food seems an easy way to start contact. Love for food opens doors.
Jamie Oliver  cooks with kids in defavorite places, schools with high calorie diets to make clear that even with a little money you can cook healthier. Making meals from a perspective that kids meet other kids from different cultures, could be one way to built knowledge about different cultures. Naiv?I like the idea anyway. Solange and her sisters go to Amsterdam to taste all season peanut and nuts free sweets and treats. Emerging for a couple of days in Dutch culture. And who knows with some Mediterranean flavours.

Contrasts

As last weeks of the year make their entry on the calendar, Rabat prepares like in the rest of the country their national slaughter ritual next week for Aid Al Adha. Millons of sheep will be killed in a traditional halal way. Billboards mention that you can win three sheep while dialing the right number, or for a certain amount of groceries you will get one sheep for free. I am not a meat person and so is the rest of the family. So the whole thing about animals and meat, isn't really my piece of cake. The Avenue Mohamed VI is decorated with season lights. The main avenue that links the most important spots in the capital of the country. Flags are pointing out central places and fly overs at the high ways. The king and his family, Royal and other high placed persons can come by. Just leaving this important Avenue is where we live. At the corner of our road which makes the edge with the holiday residence of the late Mister Bongo of Gabon and an open field with its shantytown. It's a sharp contrast that's so cristal clear for the Moroccon society. We pass every morning with the car when driving to the American School. The people in this tiny shantytown were since long asked to leave and have been paid to live elsewhere in the city, in new constructed social housing projects. But the families aren't interested to leave.The field is the playground for the children, open containers and trash is all over the place. The children don't go to school, play soccer with older guys and have their mothers around them. When days become colder, we smell the fires our neighbours make in the early morning, and often these fires smoke all day and night. Last year during the traditional slaughtering celebration the smell penetrated the air. Huge fires and lots of smoke. Just across the street is the last farm of this area. The last twenty years all farms in this area disappeared. The cattle contains foremost sheep and some cows. The sheperds arrive just in front of our gate and sometimes we need to wait and let the cattle walk by. The farm seem constructed in different time periods, there is still the land within the walls, crops look abandoned, old Mercedes cars make their attendance. The main house is huge and is repainted recently in virgin white. Around the corner is the shanty town. It's almost as if our street is the border line between two worlds.

Food pieces.

''It is always there mum. It's deadly.'' Just before the school trip to southern Morocco, Solange was preparing in her original way. Well organized: small written notes and messages, on coloured pieces of paper, with significant illustrations. Scotched on the shelf next to her bed. larger papers with information from the school attached on the magnet board up from the shelf. When I am admiring all her small treasures on the shelf and I notice the messages on the small memory cards. It's a pleasure to read and it makes me laugh in a happy way. Ordered and full of energy about the upcoming travel. One note is in a fat writing style and it is, as I will discover later, a message that she wrote a couple of time and scotched it on several important spots in the house. the fridge and the computer. It's in fact about her deadly allergies: ''get the message out to the principal and the chaperons with who I will travel during my Week Without Walls''¨!! ''Ask mum and dad to confirm''.!!
The way she makes notes is the way she eats. The precise way she cuts her food in pieces of the same size is the way she plans the steps to get ready for a test, a school trip, a treasure hunt for her sisters and their friends, a day of skiing with her Dad. This is about my allergy girl. It's her personality. Being organized while seriously allergic seems only very meaningful. She almost determinate her food, as if she is researching in a science lab. Could it be that by dividing the food on your plate in small portions, making a constellation, you get more aware about the food you taste? Does it make her feel more secure while examining the food? She''ll never miss once the occasion to come into the kitchen, lifts the lid, takes a spoon and stirs. Is there a bell that rings to alert her: ''Hey, your food is getting prepared, go and check¨''. She likes to control, have an overview and see if she gets enough. Is this 'getting enough thing'' something we should worry about? She is a teenager.. I think it's in her system. The moments she skips eating are still so many, the occasions that the food is there and she can eat it all, must be so fantastic that she wants the best pieces..... and maybe all off them. I can excuse her for that.

If you try to see it from her perspective, I should think the psychological impact of her allergies on her behaviour and feelings can't probably totally be ignored. This aspect is something I want to talk and write, together with Solange in a part of our book about her. I am challenged trough my colourful daughter to search and research, and to  try to get a better understanding of the life from children and adolescents living with serious allergies. Love this writing, and since this morning I have somebody who will think and work together with me. That is awesome. Thanks.

It's all about art

Our friend and painter from Amsterdam is here in Rabat. For almost three weeks. She will continue working on Nuria's portray. After Solange it's her turn to sit and pose. It is an amazing process. The girls get involved in collaborating with an artist and construct a deeper relationship with the painter and David, her lover. The painter sits in a transparent chair closed to the window, with a view on the garden. Her lover lays comfortable on the couch during the sessions, which turns into a bed for the night. The guest room has nicely been transformed into an atelier. The atelier becomes at the same time the girls' secret garden. During the weeks of their stay, the girls are bringing their personal belongings and stuff to the atelier. Homework, flutes, recorders, violin, books, food and their laughs. David tells stories of his life, illustrates the different episodes with truly vivid colours and in a humorist and dramatic way.  

The boy who lived in a house with other boys, just after the second world war. Hardly any food, lots of violence and sadness. David pushed his luck and for his own sake he started fighting back. The years in London, where he danced with Nureyev and the Balanchine ballet. Attending the finest boarding schools in Europe and admiring the beauty of life. Parents who were connected with the world of art.
The girls stretched their borders and had their friendly fights with David in the garden. The painter works quietly when the girls are running and screaming with David. Late bedtime stories and the love for food. He happens to be this chef in the kitchen who has the patience and the skills to involve the children. Home made French fries and mayonnaise with garlic. The kitchen remodelled in a battle field, filled stomaches and the melting taste of apple compote with cinnamon. Dutch heritage in his cuisine? No doubt for the Dutch pancakes he made us on a lazy Saturday. No oil like I would use in the pan, but real butter. The pancake then is baked and served as a roll with syrup and butter.  My sister once told me a story of a small girl. She was invited for a birthday party and they got Dutch pancakes for lunch. The girl started feeling sick immediately while eating. Desperate what to do, she threw the pancakes behind the radiator. David's pancakes were all finished and at the end of the meal everybody laid down to digest.

To alternate the posing and the listening we intend to realize a green nature project during their stay. They brought lots of fine seeds for vegetables and flowers from Holland. Transfering Dutch greenery? Soon the girls will start their new organic gardening adventure. We tried to do this last year and we succeeded halfly. We ate the salad and the zucchinis. These tasted all good. This autumn the project is more ambitious than last year. We decided to make the gardening spot much larger and we'll use less seeds of the different varieties. The digging is done by Mohamed and we can start planting very soon now.

A Bread that's not safe

Mum I have a reaction. This doesn't feel good. Solange just starts a medication because she is diagnosed with a serious throat infection. While taking the antibiotics she needs to eat a little. I served her some bread with figs and goat cheese. We had the bread more often earlier last year. I checked and double checked. No nuts. She feels swollen in her throat, absorbing is difficult for her. She goes quickly to her medication and takes two doses. I'll give her water to drink, to hydrate her body and her mind. She feels better.
I don't like these disturbing situations. It is again so not expected.

Allergy and empathy

It is not as life threatening as cancer. A reflexion I received earlier this weekend, while talking about allergies. This is absolutely true. Which doesn't mean one shouldn't take this serious. The discussion was mainly linked to labels I read on packages. I am amazed when I read the long lists of ingredients mentioned on the package of an average snack. How can you give this kind of junk food to your kids. Which company makes this food and who are the people in charge. Large food industries that's for sure. And there aren't so many. In fact what's happening today, is that a few industries seem to be in charge of our diet and take care of what we eat and what we should supply to our children. If I look back I liked to eat candies, I could kill somebody for a pink cookie. I still can... these large, kind of cake cookies were topped with a deep pink frosting. I easily finished a package of four. My girls do ask me about my food obsessions when I had their age. They tell me when I am complaining about to much bad fat, too much sugar ''Stop buying these snacks then Mum, if you don't like this'' or ''Just once or twice a year , isn't a big deal, don't you think Mum?''
When I was young, the choice was less, the availability was not like it is today, fruit seemed a serious alternative. Since I am dealing with the allergies of my daughter I lost literally sight: I am wearing glasses now. In the last ten years the list of ingedrients on a package has become longer and longer. Every year there is at least one additive more. The letter type became minuscule. I lost my confidence and patience long ago. My reading stops automatically after ingredient number 4. Hydrogenated fats and glucose syrup are the ingedrients you'll find in almost all packaged food. I just learned that the first one is forbidden in a country as Denmark. I'll try to skip everything that contains the hydrogenated fat. Probably when you do have an allergy girl, you get involved in all kind of aspects of food. We don't buy fast food and we do limit processed food products. That's not too difficult. All these small thoughts were in fact caused by the remark of this friend. I think we learned to manage her life with the specific limitations: living with life threatened allergies. It means that food is a daily issue and the food is connected with her allergies. We live confortable with her afflictions. She is healthy and strong, aware of her body. Empathy though from others is nice to receive. Allergies àre about emotions. Something that infects your health and safety, deserves some empathy.

Yes, she can eat it all !

A friend told me she liked the appetizers and the aperitifs at my party. She mentioned it was so chic. I replied the chic comes with the years. Getting older and the charm of becoming more chic... maybe. ''Is Solange able to eat these recipes?'' ''Yes, she can have it all.'' I replied. When we organize dinners or parties and Solange is participating in the festivities, we only eat what our allergy girl can eat. It is always about our golden rule: I am what I eat! ''And in daily life, how do you manage?'' ''Very easy, we eat together as a family, we eat what Solange can eat.''

I felt she was surprised and at the same time she was very positive about this way of acting. She made me compliments about Solange. ''She is so nice, has a strong body and healthy hair and is loaded with energy. Just an amazing girl.'' My friend thinks and motivates to continue the writing and publishing of my book. The message will be: "a good and happy life while suffering from a chronic disease is possible''.

Which were the recipes again? We mentioned the egg salad, this was made by our friend David. He prepared a home made mayonnaise mixed with fresh boiled egg. To have a better emulsion he add some garlic. This egg salad was served with nice baguette from a bakery Maymana, on the Mohamed VI Avenue. She loved the pissaladière. A recipe from the Provence. Bread dough covered with glazed onion topped with anchovy and black olives. There were small white breads with salmon, cream and chives. And breads with mozzarella, tomato slice, pepper, salt and basil leaves.

Parmesan cookies we served as a first appetizer. These cookies are a real delight.Two varieties of spring rolls. One filled with cheese and another filled with a mixture of red and green peppers, onion, rice vermicelli, just a bit of white fish, garlic, salt and pepper.

A nice constellation with tastes from Mediterranean countries with flavours from Morocco and France and just the final touch by ourselves.

After all these salty appetizers we proposed sweet cakes. Dutch apple pie, apple cake, candied fruit bread and a black devil cake. The only thing we missed was the quantity. We had too much and too many desserts. So the list for groceries will be shorter next time, although it is delicious to finish the day afer the excellent left overs. You party again and taste sweet memories.

Brigitte - Les allergies

So hilarious!

more about "Brigitte - Les allergies", posted with vodpod

The vegetable guy

The vegetable shop where he first worked, belonged to his brother, I found out later. They got involved in a common quarrel. One morning he wasn't there. And he didn't come back in the next couple of weeks. I looked every time for him, I wandered what has happened to him. I asked once, twice and another employee told me he went away to take a rest... Not a very satisfied answer. I missed him, the fun of getting my groceries at this typical shop in Rabat wasn't fun any more. The hole ambiance changed, there were no more little fruit gifts for the girls, no pineapple for Belle, no small talks, limited by language and so real. One morning in spring I came with my list of groceries for the weekend and I jumped into this fat man. He took the hole space of the shop and I didn't like his face and his eyes. I never saw this man before so I asked him:''Who are you?'', ''I am the boss''. Wow. I felt uncomfortable in his presence and suddenly I understood, that with this man in the shop, there wasn't left any space for my favourite guy. There must be a connection between these two men and the appearance of this guy meant than the disappearance of the other guy?  Shortly after I was told, these two were brothers and the boss, the fat man, wasn't pleased at all by his brother's friendly and open spirit and he was forged to leave.
From friends and people I know here, I've understand that he was busy with a kind of start up: a new small vegetable and fruit stand somewhere close to the neighbourhoods of Ambassadors and Souissi. Not far from our villa. No longer in a a shopping centre but in the streets making the borderline between the open fields and the urbane district. Only after summer I started my research, and I was convinced to find him back. The negative way the fat man manages his shop pushes me to take action. When I had my Mum here in Rabat last September we took of for my personal adventure to find my nice entrepreneur. It took us some time. We got in and out the car, entered the different fruit stands along one long road, which makes the corner with a huge supermarket and a neighbourhood for the average more well to do Morocco families and expatriates. These shops do have a similarity in the way they expose their merchandise, their fruits and vegetables. On a edge of two road I find my man back. He was touched, seeing me. We shake hands. My Mum was in a funny way surprised. His shop is small and very well sorted. The ground is the earth. So basic, so nature. Belle admired this. The fresh fruits are exposed in nice wooden baskets. Last year he offered me one of these fine fabricated baskets. I bought a composition of fruit to offer, as a welcome gift to my friend from Holland. Here in Morocco fruit is a welcome gift to guests coming to your home. It is all about hospitality. For me it is a tradition to give fruit when someone is ill. Our girls offered this basket to our dear friend as a warm welcome to our house and as a support in her fight against breast cancer.

I drive twice, tree or four times a week to my vegetable man, it is always fun. He offers little fruit gifts to the girls. Today he put grapes into a plastic bag, filled the bag with clear water and gave me the washed grapes.These small signs make me feel that he cares about his products and his customers. I resource and I enjoy this. Look at those beautiful colors! All the wonderful recipes we make with these succulent flavors.

I Am Hungry

''I am hungry''! This is my colorful peanut allergy girl. It is her way to express a deep frustrated feeling after a party, birthday or any other gathering where she couldn't participate in eating the food. The way she pronounces this sentence, the look in her eyes when she outs her self pity. Her body language shows an unsatisfied mood. I know this one liner so well! It is a famous sentence, an expression, that goes together with Solange during the last years. It could be the title of a chapter in my book. In these three words, Solange says more than you can imagine in the first moment. It is a voice from her soul. In these three simple words, lays her hole world of frustrations, based on her food allergies. Every word symbolises moments of lonelyness, isolation, anger, unhappyness. There you are again my colorful allergy daughter. Coming home this time from a Halloween party. Things were clear, I thought. I explained the allergies she faces, discussed the food she can't have. I proposed to skip the peanuts for one evening. Don't distribute these dangerous little shell fruits, please.
'I am hungry!'' What do you mean, how is this possible? Is my first reaction, when I see her coming home, last Sunday. She storms into the kitchen together with her noise and her voice shouts: 'I am hungry', 'I didn't eat anything'! She goes straight towards the cupboard with the pans. One hand takes out a pan, the other opens a can with pasta. Tab open, water in the pan, spoilingthe water around on the stoof. I get irritated, pull her away from the stoof. Off she goes! I hear her going up, footsteps upstairs at the first floor, smashing a door a two. I feel bad now. O my gosh, I know this play so well. This is the déjà vu. This is not fair. Not my behavior, nor the explanation I received from her dad. Apparently in the car back home, she was already upset and having a negative mood. It seems reasonable the way she acts. This is so unfair. Hanging out somewhere and joining a party, socializing, sharing food together except for you, the food environment is not safe tonight. You can't eat or taste. Solange is very cautious and doesn't take a risk. When it isn't quiet clear who made the dishes, and she can't name the ingredients, she refuses to eat completely. And that is OK. The rule is: I am what I eat. She knows exactly what she can have and can't have. I don't understand how this happened last evening. I discussed it all with these wonderful guys who were hosting the Halloween gathering. I told about Solange allergy story: No peanuts, no nuts! I really thought everything was fine. Am I still too naif? Yes I think so. This is what we did experience so often. It is to complicate to make others part of her allergies only when they are involved in her life so shortly. That sounds fair enough. The allergies and the consequences are in our system and in that of the extended family.  Therefor I am already so greatful. My weak and sensitive point is, to deal with the behaviour of my daughter in these specific moments. I get her back from a party and she is screaming her one liner: ''I am hungry''! Repeats this a dozen times. All her frustrations are coming out after not eating during one long evening. The explosion goes of like a bomb at the moment she comes home. It is unfair and so logical! A teenager can't be in such a mood while being with strangers or friends, they won't accept this behaviour. Probably they won't understand and then what. It makes me sad, I taste bitterness, when I see my colorful daughter unhappy, angry and fighting with her self. She must have controlled herself during the hole party, last evening. She goes mad coming home. I do understand her reactions but I can't agree. I explain to her again and again, every time we find ourselves in this very unconfortable situations, that she needs to overcome this anger and keeps tight to the positive thinking. Don't challenge your luck. Next time you bring again your own food box. This time I felt positive of letting her go without any snack, as did Solange. The home made chocolate cake she brought with her and her sisters, was surrounded by suspicious dishes .....  My colorful allergy girl, you are so mature! Please give me the time to understand, and I'll take the time to prepare you a dish when you come home the next time. Last Sunday after you finished the plain pasta and sautéed vegetables (red peppers, tomatoes, onion, olive oil, hymalaya salt and garlic) your positive mind was back.

Black chocolate cake!

Melting pot: the kitchen.
The chocolate. The eggs.
The fun and the taste.
The plan and the preparations.
Good food, pure black chocolate.
The kitchen: the ultimate place for experiment and the freedom of taste.
The love for food and the pleasure to prepare for the guests to come.
Solange is there, Nuria and Belle.
All eager to get started.
To sift the flour. To separate the eggs. To measure the chunks of chocolate.
This is fun. I just love it to see them together and doing this for me and for themselves. For our friends to come later tonight. The quantity of chocolate is so much..... " Is this OK Mom?" "Think so."
The result is just spectacular. The ingredients all mixed in the biggest bowl in the house. The color changes slowly with the turning of the spoon. The yellows, the black Lindt 85% chocolate and the white snow all added together. The composition fits wonderfully in the bowl. The mixture doesn't go over the edge. Don't spill it girls.This is so rich. The texture is puffed and airy. Like the old fashion bubbled chocolate bars I ate long ago as a kid.
The flow of energy of this allergy girl is amazing. She is a again the chief in the kitchen. Her mind absorbes the putting together of the ingredients and her eyes filter the cooking scenes. With her deep blue eyes she follows at the same time the recipe I prepare for an apple cake and Zineb's (the bonne), recipe for a brioche bread.

It is all about the flavors and the taste of all the food she can have. No doubt she is enjoying this. And I do too.

At the table in the blue city of Morocco

We left for Chefchouen last saturday. We admired the relaxed ambiance in the Riad. We became more or less the chef in the kitchen in the lovely Riad where we rented for the weekend. We were imagining, the apron, the pots and pans, the tables and the tablecloths. We had a great time! We suggested a salad, we wanted the oils at the table. At the table, where we were discussing and negotiating. It is a serious matter Solange's allergies, it is about the life of a kid. You can make this very dramatic. You could write a play. If you play the game by our rules, take the poison out of the story by simply being alert, serious and intelligent. By building a knowledge about food, following your own intuition and reminding yourself and the allergy girl, that one can survive on water, plain bread and fresh fruit. The plot turns then into a happy ending, the secret for this, lays in build up experience. We can reduce the stress and become more relaxed by: I am what I eat. We are having fun during voyages we make, about the images and the situations we face. We see ourselves as part of a slapstick: the labels rapped of from oil bottles in the kitchen,  founded back in the trash bin, delivered at our table, studied word by word. People coming up from the kitchen with stories: different episodes, a variety of actors,
"No, it is only olive oil we use in the dishes"... second one... "No, it is table oil"...
What can we do..... shall we take the risk? For us this may be a routine food research, for these owners of the Riad it is strange, maybe annoying...  We are making a trip, we will be still alright even if we can't have the dish the cook propose. But let's change roles. We will give them a recipe for free, we'll ask what they have in the cuisine, we study the card, we make up our minds, and we come up with a fine salad. "Olive oil at the table please"! The cook and his servants are releaved, they want to treat us, we are the guests, they don't want to feel uncomfortable. We'll not cause that feeling. We'll go for what we can eat. Let's stay positive! These situations seem often almost common for us.
The allergy issue is our problem. We come somewhere, we visit, we want to be free, we don't want to feel limited in moving around because of Solange's allergies. This is what we like. So we come with ideas, we come all the time with explanations in a positive way. And we like the strategy of the proposal for a dish. The table is where we eat, where we negotiate and where we talk about my book. It is the best spot to be. This evening in Chefchaouen, Solange had a great meal. Fresh chopped tomatoes, onions, goat cheese and pure olive oil accompanied with a loaf of bread. We had a nice glass of wine, secretly, in our room.

Storyteller of allergies

Strange things can happen everyday. The allergies stay and although we forget the years that we were worried several times a day, many moments a week and we deal now with a handful moments of trouble, insecurity, anxiousness now and then, we should stay alert. Like a mother wakes during the nights for the child to wake up from a nightmare, or waits for the adolescent to come home late in the evening after a party. Living with allergies,  is a worry and it remains a source of attention in daily life. For me the moments of feeling not save about Solange's life are less then in the past ten years. I can count the stress moments today. And then suddenly, out of the blue something happens, surprise! And alertness is needed. Peanut allergy is what I feel today not so well known as I thought it would be. I recognize the look, the voice of those people who just don't know how to handle the allergy issue about peanuts. And that is fine. Sometimes I feel like a storyteller who is telling the same story all the time. But the thing is that for all those people who aren't aware about the possible risks of peanuts and nuts, both groups cause reactions for my allergy girl, the story I tell, is a brand new story. It is a learning process. I became a very hands on learner, I was forced to react immediately, the situation we encountered, once we were diagnosed with an allergy girl. It takes a moment, a time to realize what's happening. The fairy tale about the girl which was bewitched with these allergies right after she was born. The curse was to stay allergic her hole life until she would be kissed by the prince ... This could be the context of the story in which Solange plays the main colorful and cosmopolitan peanut girl. The play could be about poisoned food, about making choices along the road, about curiosity for food and the knowledge about your own health and body. The metaphore could be the balance, the good and the wrong, the bad and the good food. The good diet is the diet that she will choose because it makes her feeling happier and safer. And the learning for these allergic kids, is the battle, to understand that their body heels, and the witch's curse disappear. When you can easily say yes for the food you can eat without the eternal temptation of the moment, the impulse. That's so true. Children like Solange, limited in some ways by their allergies are at a young age able to say no. Their limitation becomes a challenge. It is a yes for a no!

Dutch delight

Wednesday, just half a day of school for the girls. And all day off for Nuria. Nuria is sick. High fever yesterday. After having received a phone call from school to get her home she felt ill but no fever. Temperature rose in the hours to come. Belle took her sister's temperature but didn't get anxious about the 39,5 Celsius that popped up. Now 24 hours later, Nuria reads about the hippies and the Woodstock Festival 40 years ago. She tells me, that the great thing about these guys was: ''that they weren't afraid to show who they were''. I admire you for this Nuria, you describe your thoughts so clearly and so true. To be who you are is not always easy. And to send this image about yourself to your peers isn't evident at all. Good for you that you handle these things natural. Kids like my 10 year old one, are innocent in the way they behave, they observe and act. Not much distracted about the second thoughts of their environment. They seem still so sure about themselves, more than their older peers facing adolescence. The faces to face, the influences to deal with, the overall thoughts in the young adult mind. I read today in the newspaper that Morocco is losing track on the worldwide list for press freedom. So the motto will be again:don't tell who you are, and don't write what you really think. The hippies in the seventies seemed better off and dreamt openly of a free world and the free word. With lots of love and flowers. That's the image Nuria loves the most I suppose. Feeling better this afternoon, Solange pushed Nuria for a recipe. As both sisters are thinking and planning their Christmas fair project, they certainly were in the mood to bake some dutch favourites. The fair will be an occasion to earn some money for charity. They are still making their mind up about the charity project. The initiative for the Christmas bazaar comes from the International American Women Association in Rabat. The idea to participate in this winter bazaar, is caused by their friend Bella in Geneva. She managed a whole handcraft project last winter in her international school in Geneva, and transferred her enthusiasm towards our girls. Good for them. The real thinking about this bazaar started last summer in the apartment in La Faustine, Cassis. The context was funny. Hot summer weather, outdoor summer season and my girls were preparing Christmas decorations. The kitchen became an atelier and Belle sat down as a laboratory assistant with plastic gloves. Little stars, small hats and tiny ornaments. The ambiance was kind of hilarious: holy season while crickets didn't sleep until sunset. Planning their small business, this bazaar forces the girls to make choices. Taking decisions about what they want to propose to the people.  Every step in the process is about making choices.They made their first choice about the size off the table, they take a small size. And they will sell Christmas decorations and home made season favourites. Everything proposed is peanut and nut free. And the sisters try to focus on four ingredients.
Nuria and Solange make this afternoon a dutch favourite: pepernoten. If one translates it: pepper nuts. In fact the mix of spices, that makes this recipe so colourful and tasty, is a fine combination of: nutmeg, cinnamon and clove. This is a traditional dutch treat by Saint Nicolas, a Saint from Spain, who comes to Holland every year in December and celebrates his birthday on the 5th of December. For his birthday he brings all these treats to children of Holland.
Our philosophy everyday: I am what I eat. Positive and focused on food an peanut and nuts girl can have. We leave the nutmeg out of the mix, the composition change, the taste is wonderful. No nuts and Solange can enjoy this traditional recipe.
Good News!!!! Solange was tested last summer for a couple of small allergies she suffered from. As there are nutmeg and coconut.
She was tested negative for both.
These pepernoten look like small brown coins. In just a short time, the dough was made, rested in the fridge, homework was done, and smells were coming out of the kitchen. You close your eyes and the scene is right there. Fire in the fireplace, hot cocoa and the taste of delicious brown coloured pepernoten. Instead of making small ones, like they do normally, the girls decided to try small cookie size pepernoten. The idea is to wrap a pile of ten of these pepernoten in nice transparent paper with a ribbon and a colourful pearl.

PEPERNOTEN (Dutch Delight)

For about 500 gr dough

185 gr flour
85 gr brown sugar
15 gr mix spices, gloves and cinnamon )
0,5 teaspoon ginger
salt
120 gr cold butter

Mix flour, sugar and mix and salt. Add butter in small pieces. Work with finger tips. Once the dough is elastic, make a ball and keep it for 30 minutes in plastic film in the fridge.
Make small little balls or choose a bigger size and bake these in the oven at 150 celsius for 20 minutes.

(all rights reserved: cosmopolitan girls Solange, Nuria and Belle)

I Am What I Eat

There is so much  fruit in Rabat, we can hardly eat and taste it all with our regularly 3 - 5 portions of fruit a day. So we explore new recipes or experiment with good old ones and make fancy cakes all the time. The three girls come along with cooking ideas. Bring books with recipes. That's so nice. All the moments I shared with them in the kitchen, since they were very young, seem to result in something positive about food  for all of them. The value of the talks about food, Solange's allergies, gave us a lot to speak about. I always liked to bake and I transferred this pleasure to my girls. I think the fact, that we have a food allergy issue in our family, makes that the girls are aware and responsible about nutrition in general.We believe strongly in the philosophy 'I am what I eat'. Healthy food and positive feelings are closely related. The philosophy 'I am what I eat' is my drive in my food related projects. Ever since I discovered we had a child with severe allergies, I started observing my daughter very closely, took care of a balanced diet, studied and researched new sources and relied on my intuition and common sense. I am writing the memories of my self, Solange and her sisters about Solange's  life as an allergy girl. I believe that for me and my daughters this is a great thing to do . We should mark life by points of major impact. The years of struggling with Solange's allergies are behind us. Although she remains the same very allergic girl who walks around with her personal medication bag, life has become more peaceful and more reasonable. We came from far and yet I can honestly say this allergy girl, my child,  my colourful and cosmopolitan daughter Solange. She lives by the rules of the game that is called peanut allergy, we play the game by clear, intelligent and simple rules. When the diagnose was made by an allergist medicine in Marseille,France, we simplified our life a lot. Our diet became a rude copy of the Mediterranean diet. Vegetables, fruit, little meat, fish, bread, pasta and rice and omega 3 and 6 oils. Solange can have so many dishes, can eat a large variety of ingredients. We became the chef in our own kitchen. The diet is a mix of Mediterranean basics, home made desserts and treats from the patisserie. The memories I try to recollect and try to write down are connected with the choices we made after having been diagnosed with an allergy daughter. Choices in daily life needed to be applied, corrected, renewed, rediscussed, adapted during the years. We found out that one can easily avoid the risk of allergy reactions by making choices for the food and nutricion you can eat. This means that you can live a safe life! I'll not deny that all this was easy in the beginning. A lot one faced was flue and one felt insecure. I'll mention the stress in my book, I'll also mention the frustrations we were dealing with: an allergy girl coming back from a birthday party where she couldn't taste anything; the ignorance of people; the lack of comprehension; the lack of human interest. And the people who do care, who don't know anything about allergies and want to learn and try their best in making fun dinners where an allergy girl can eat. My drive is still intense, honest, not hysterical, intuitive and focused. I want to share the positive things about being allergic, the funny experiences of beeing allergic, the treatment you get when you happen to be the allergy girl in your class. My writing project is to learn about family, food and health. My diary is about the very strong and positive outcomes for Solange, for us, our extended family, friends and all others who may deal with similar issues. I want to do this because I think there are stories behind the allergies we are dealing with, which don't get the attention they deserve. Think of the positive input, a diet of an allergy girl can have for 'normal' kids. And to write this very optimistic and colourful story is an insight look in our life in the different places we lived facing a daughter with severe food allergies. Integration in other countries goes along with sharing food, experimenting new tastes and trying new dishes. The beautiful thing about this all, is the discovery of traditions, rituals and values through the flavours on your plate. And you know what, there in the middle of a new abroad adventure is (almost) always something an allergy girl can eat. To see the allergy as an advantage in stead of a disadvantage made us stronger. Mentioning the challenge instead of the fear makes it easier to live with. And to focus on serious thinking, intelligent choices and positive perspective is not easy but so great.

Nuria's cake search

Nuria starts already researching recipes for her coming up 11th birthday in January. We just celebrated her sister's 9 year's birthday. Belle's cake had an inventive character last September. You know these days that nothing goes in the right direction. This Saturday, two weeks ago, was one of these partly unfortunate days. The three sisters decided to bake several cakes for the group of 18 girls, who Belle would receive the next day to her Paris Party. Belle desired a Chocolate Covered.Cake, a Cinnamon Cup Cakes and a Apple cake.
Going now again trough the cook books, I discover that we just missed a line in the recipe, the one that mention that you can bake two cakes...... seems logic while looking at the very tasty picture. The girls missed this line completely and so did I. As the one cake we baked, was so thin, the result wasn't satisfying, we baked a second one. Still not impressive. Then we asked Zineb, our bonne Marocaine, to bake one of her favourite Moroccan cakes. She is in fact just fabulous in the kitchen. She told me last week, she worked in a bakery in Rabat for years, as a seller. I think she took advance of her position and went as often as she could in the back of the store to learn from the bakers. She has a nose for good recipes and is a real good baker. We are, all the time, discovering new recipes together with Zineb. I'll learn her, my European recipes and keep her from using to much sugar and salt. We, the girls and me, her to join us in the project about our dream bakery. That Saturday two weeks ago wasn't her day neither. Her cake didn't rise as it normally does, had no sponge structure. Zineb told us it was the first time in her life that this happened. You see these days. She gave it a try for a second one like we did. Her recipe is something different than ours and is prepared with fresh pressed lemon. It makes me thinking of crepe Suzette. I ate those in Nevers, Loire, France when I had the age of my girls. Finely we get creative again, and piled up the 4 cakes and the girls covered it up with chocolate frosting, a recipe from their grand-grand dad. Between the layers the girls put the chocolate cream. Coloured decoration was done with Smarties. And Belle?  She had her chocolate covered cake decorated 9 pink candles and funny smiley faces, we founded last summer in Rome. The great thing is that the girls, Zineb and myself had a great time in the kitchen. Belle's friends loved the taste.

Chocolate covered cake:
125 g Flour                               cake tins 18 cm, pastry brush, grease proof paper
2 large eggs
125 soltened butter
125 g caster sugar

Simply beat all the ingredients together. The result is a plain sponge cake. If you make two, you can layer them up and fill them up with jam or fresh cream. You can make it ever more adventures if you add cocoa powder or fresh fruit. Bake the cake for 20 minutes in the oven (170° C/ 325° F)

Chocolate cream:
200 gr black Lindt chocolate (we only take black lindt chocolate (70%), Solange can have this brand. It is true that it costs more than the regular black dessert chocolate. We just love the taste of Lindt, remembers us of our three years living in Lausanne, Swiserland and most of all Solange never had a food intolerance reaction. )
6 tablespoons double cream

Chocolate frosting:
159 gr black Lindt chocolate (70% - 85%)
3 tbl spoons water
20 gr butter
100 gr icing sugar

If there are fresh strawberries available you could put these on top of this cake.

In the meantime Nuria sits on a cousin in the girl's library upstairs in the house. She took the big pile of cooking books we brought up there together a couple of weeks ago. Nuria dreams about having English high teas, scones, cakes and muffins and tea served in a pot with flower design. She sees herself surrounded by her sisiters having tea, inviting frinds to join her and her sisters and tasting all kinds of cakes. She went trough all the small books. Alle these are books are written by Anne Wilson. The pictures look all so very  tasty and yet also a little bit old fashioned. The ingredients very basic. Every recipe is marked for more or less difficult. Nuria flipped the corners, of all pages were she found something of her gourmand taste. When I went closely through her marked pages I was smiling by seeing all these recipes while thinking of the good moments she passed sitting her in the library on her own and searching for everything what she likes to east. None of the recipees mentioned pinda's, peanuts or nuts. She found easily, many good ones that Solange can have all.

Food is on her mind

Today the girls are having a day off from school. It is still not our biological rhythm this American school schedule. But we slowly adept. Solange likes to make a recipe today. In fact she came to me early in the morning, and this was her first request of the day. This is my daughter. She is just into food. She loves it always to anticipate for the next dish to be served, the guests to come, the friends to treat. Cookbooks are all around the place. Energy is never to less to focus for new recipes. Today she wants to prepare a dough. We looked yesterday in a cookbook with all kinds of pies. Sweet ones and salty ones. We decide to try another, lighter dough. We will change the quantity of butter. So for the 1 cup (250 gr) of flour we take now 100 butter and a bit more of cold water.We decide to work harder to make an ever better dough. To often we are to much in a hurry so the result is hardly ever as good as good be. New efforts to make. New goals to reach out for.
The dough will be filled with glazed baked onins, garlic and some cream. Topped with cheese. We will use the compté, hard french cheese to have a more explicit taste. But it could be done with cheese as emmentaler or gruyère but these are not in the fridge today. The second pie will be filled with tomates in thin slices, we leave the mustard, Solange had several allergic reactions, mozzarella, in fresh little balls and starwise we will add sradines from a can. A mélange of eggs and cream we poor on the top. Both pies will be baked in a 200 celsius heated oven. The girls will bring the left overs from these pies for a schoollunch tomorrow to school.

The Whole Foods Allergy Cookbook

The Whole Foods Allergy Cookbook

De allergie boeken waar je wat aan hebt!

De allergie boeken waar je wat aan hebt!

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BBC NEWS Health Warning of nut allergy 'hysteria'

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