So … as it transpires, and not surprisingly so, we find ourselves with one of those ridiculously huge boxes of cornflakes, of the fully branded kind, in our pantry.
The box that holds 17 kilo or there aboutes.
I can’t remember where it came from; possibly a leftover from some Scout camp my kid never went on, but we ended up with it anyway. Just as likely is it is a relic from a recent visit to Melbourne for one of Grumpy’s many siblings, who brought their offspring, or friend’s offsprings, or a bunch of them were staying together and they brought it to save on breakfasts (or breakfastses if you prefer) or … something.
It’s not an item we usually purchase, so, for a while there, it was coveted by my own offspring. As we had no less than five Tupperware containers, not even close to nearing empty, containing breakfast cereals they did eat, I made them wait.
Also, because I can.
The fascination with the corflakes lasted one morning; where one child had a bowl of them, with milk, and declared a dislike for them. This was enough for the other two, or, perhaps, that a sibling had been first to touch them, they had lost all their appeal. Or something. Who knows?
Thus, I had a plethora of cornflakes, taking up room in the pantry, not to mention an entire oval five!, and ignored by everyone in the household.
A jar of peanut butter was experiencing the same fate. Different from our usual brand, and also something like gluten free, salt free and nut free (although possibly not nut free???), it had noses screwed up at it. I had a bit of a taste myself, and even though it had “organic” written on the label, and everyone was raving about it, I still couldn’t get into it.
I also have an avid dislike of throwing away edible food. Even if they were deemed inedible in this household, and continued to remain inedided (or uneaten, as the case may be – or, in fact, is).
Which is how I found myself baking. A little overwhelmed and frazzled after two extemely full on weeks, and quite literally banging my head on the desk after some dealings, I gravitated to my usual form of stress relief; the baking.
I had, a few weeks back, attempted some other peanut butter/corflake combination thing, but all the recipes required corn syrup; including all the Australian ones. This is not a thing I have in my pantry, becuase I don’t use it nearly often enough, and it is not something one can by so easily in this country. I filtered the google search for recipes to eliminate the chances of this ingredient popping up, with zero luck. Now I have half a jar of glucose syrup, which I don’t think I’ll ever use, and that recipe could only be described as revolting.
This time, I searched for the term “biscuits”, which didn’t, for the record, exclude “cookies” nor recipes containing corn syrup. I found a suitable recipe eventually: Peanut Butter, Cornflake & Raisin Cookies.
Or in my case, Peanut Butter That Everyone Refuses To Eat, Stale Cornflake & No Raisin Biscuits (because we live in Australia and that is what they are called here).
I don’t know if it was athe recipe, the igredients, or my skills, or even a combination of the three, but when I ate one I didn’t die.
I also don’t think I’ll eat another one, although I am extremely thankful I have children who will eat anything put in front of them.
Well, except spinach, broccoli, mushrooms and cooked peas … let me rephrase; thankfully I have children who will eat crap that I reguarly screw my nose up at (except mushrooms), including floor food, two minute noodles (undrained and swimming in water), and biscuits made from the very ingredients that they have vehemently refused to touch for the last 8-and-a-half months.
And so concluded another brush with unfamiliar recipes, and one that I have no desire to perfect as once these ingredients are gone, I shall not be persuing similar outcomes.
I still only have another 36 kilo or cornflakes to get through … I swear those things are breeding.