(italics is Isobel, upright is Kate)
Dot invited me to their second birthday party, a teddy bear’s picnic, to be held in the tenement garden, weather permitting, or in the flat, weather not permitting.
I bought a carton of oat milk for their parents on my way there, walking into the coop soaked from the quickening rain. I knew it wasn’t for Dot, who prefers whole cow milk, cold or warm, sometimes frothy.
When I arrived Dot opened the door for me then went off. In the galley kitchen, Isobel gave me the low down on what they’d eaten so far.
This, all before 3 o’clock in the afternoon:
Pancakes with fruit, yogurt, peanut butter. Delia, their grandma, came over for a birthday breakfast.
took 2 bites from an apple and a pear (each)
a “milky tea” (hot water and milk) they like to share in the drinking of a post-meal cup of tea or coffee, and this is the workaround.
Snacked on dried pears
More bites from the apple and pear from earlier
Some cake batter eaten off the end of a little finger, pictured. These photos by Katie, one of Dot’s parents, remind me of Maurice Sendack’s ‘In the Night Kitchen,’ with Dot working away all podge-toddler-armed to help make a cake for their party guests.
Spinach and ricotta tortellini (shop) kale pesto (homemade)
Pre nap milky tea
Katie told me later that the cake is a great recipe (used always for Isobel’s birthdays), by Hugh FW, where you weigh out your eggs and then use that weight in order to gauge the quantities of all the other ingredients. Because, importantly, all eggs are different weights. The resultant cake was the only Victoria Sponge that has ever startled me, that I have ever enjoyed.
The party:
A dried pear
Jam sandwich(es)
Lots of raspberries
Blueberries and some strawberries
Some pom bears Children had brought their teddies, which were in various states of disarray, some lined up on the radiator, some at the foot of chairs. Bear’s images in food, in the form of pom bear crisps, were also eaten.
Cake (victoria sponge) Dot and I sat on the floor to tend to our slices of cake. They had some cream, some slices of strawberry, were haphazard in their eating of it. I stayed crosslegged by the fireplace and attended to mine, hungry and eating and so quiet. Dot went off – trusted me to look after their bowl of cake. Another toddler lurked, considering filching it. I stood strong. After about half an hour, more running about, some hunting for a small red toy car (under the armchair), some hunting about for all the pieces of the wooden cuttable fruit set, all the other guests left but me. Dot was still away, moving from room to room with haste, had lost interest in their cake, so I ate the remainder, which had been pounded a little (a lot) by small fists.
The After Party:
In the calm at the seemingly sudden emptying of the flat, Dot and I went and sat by the window at the table and grazed on the leftovers. They took a triangle of jam sandwich, handed it to me, then took one for themselves, opened it like a book, took a small nibble, then set it back on the table. I ate it. I was clearly quite hungry.
Some more sandwich grazing
Attempted suckling (dry teat)
We cleared away a little, then read some Miffy in their room, looking at the illustrations of the food she eats (normally carrots), while Dot’s parents cleaned and made dinner in the kitchen.
Tart (garlic, green tomato, goats cheese, thyme, puff pastry), quick pickled radish served from teapot, beany leafy salad with a dressing made from the liquor of fermented honey garlic.
Vinegary radish liquid poured from a little enamel teapot — an innovation. Dot picked the beans from the salad and ate some singly, smudged others into the wood of the table with an absent thumb.
I said happy birthday again, said goodnight, and made my way home in the dark, in rain lit by the streetlights.
Cup of milk at bedtime