Saturday night, Sunday morning

Sometimes the Great Big Veg Challenge feels like a game of snakes and ladders. Saturday night was like a flashback to last November. Peas are clearly a trigger point for Freddie. There were only seven of them contaminating an otherwise acceptable plate of ham and potatoes. But somewhere along the line, peas have assumed enemy status. Strenuous efforts are made to prevent them from entering his territory. If they break through his considerable defences, the peas are then cordoned off, banished to the outskirts of the dish. Freddie's knife and fork scuttle around his plate, scooping up all other food to the safety of his mouth. Then distraction techniques are employed. He gently nudges his plate towards his sister, knowing that she will happily hoover up his unwanted veg. If spotted, he claims innocence. Then I wade in with that stalwart of parenting lines. "If you don't eat your peas, there'll be no icecream." This isn't where I want to be. This is why I started the GBVC. But as this goes through my mind, something more significant is happening across the table. Freddie looks at the pudding glinting at him, looks back at me, takes a deep breath and stuffs the peas in his mouth. It's a truce. Now that wouldn't have happened six months ago.

 

The day after, we all visited Baddesley Clinton, a moated manor house in Warwickshire. We had Sunday lunch in their restaurant. The Great Big Veg Challenge was six months old, we had tried out 21 vegetables, over 60 new recipes. And Freddie rewarded me by eating and enjoying cabbage and carrots with his beef and potato. This is a milestone for both of us. So I am spurred on. It is E next. Send us your ideas