Let me introduce you to the new (secondhand) love of my life. Let’s call her Thermantha. Yes, I’ve joined the Thermomix cult. I remember when I used to sit on my high horse and smugly smile at my friends who bought into this crazy cult a few years ago. “It’s just a kitchen appliance,” I thought. “It’s not like it peels your vegies.”
And then I became a mother of two under two. One who wouldn’t eat anything which didn’t come in a plastic wrapper. And one who had soy and cow’s milk protein intolerance. Of course, it was the one I was breastfeeding, which meant I couldn’t eat, like, food. I became hangry. And skinny. Skinny was a plus, but hangry was not.
I couldn’t eat out anymore, unless it was plain fruit and vegies (and maccas chips). Did you know all store-bought bread and cereal contain soy? Me neither.
I started going in to shops I’d never noticed before to find dairy alternatives. In addition to my babywearing and cosleeping habit (this baby was NOT easy), I suspect my friends were calling me a dirty hippy behind my back. Or perhaps that was due to the occasional missed shower because, kids. Difficult kids.
I discovered biocheese, savoury yeast flakes, and cacao powder. To my absolute delight, I discovered dairy- and soy-free chocolate. What I didn’t discover was extra time to cook all of this ridiculously labour-intensive food with two incredibly needy humans at my side.
Enter Thermantha. And all hail the quirky cooking recipe book.
I’ve become a little obsessed. I make bliss balls most days. I try and make healthy muesli bars for Big Boy (a little bit of chocolate is ok right?). This week I made them with raspberry. He sniffed it and threw it on the ground. I made chicken nuggets last week. Sniffed and threw. I made a different version yesterday. Sniffed and threw. I made pasta. Sniffed and threw (that was messy). I made “hidden veggie meatballs” and to my absolute and utter delight, HE ATE FIVE!! Hallelujah. From now on I will only be making spherical food. And pretending to eat it in order to make him think its worth eating (“No, Mum, its MINE!!”)
I’m sorry, dear friends and fellow cult-members. You were right. Thermies are life-changing. Stocking up the pantry has cost me a small fortune, but I’m not hangry anymore.