The Boy – World traveller, bon vivant and kindy raconteur, Raffles is the undoubted star of this particular show, though his understudy, Sugarpuff (you’ll meet her shortly), is definitely nipping at his heels with her tiny teeth.
Raffles’ first real “foodie” experience occurred in sunny San Sebastian, culinary capital of Spain and home to be the world’s highest concentration of Michelin stars. Here Mr. Eats World and I delighted in leisurely lunches and late night feasts of Pinxos (Basque Tapas) but it was as we indulged in a three-hour long, million-course dinner at Mugaritz (currently ranked third best restaurant in the world), that magic happened. From the restaurant’s signature potato “stones” to its butter-soft, cream infused brioche crusted with crisp caramel, it was a mighty introduction for my son to the world of fine food.
At least it would have been had he been conscious. At just five-months old he snoozed happily in his stroller (completely welcome in such an establishment in this family centric country) while mummy and daddy gorged themselves stupid. The only taste he got of this lesson in molecular gastronomy was later that night via the mummy’s milk that he still fed exclusively on. I like to think that, by osmosis, something supernatural occurred that evening that turned him into a junior gastronome because he’s been a fearless foodie since his first mouthful of pureed pumpkin.
The Girl – Sugarpuff is the baby of the family. And with absolute bias I believe my sugary sweet daughter is the most charming pre-schooler in the history of pre-schooler… so charming that it’s not unusual for her to become the attraction when we travel. Loving the limelight, she’s now taken to smiling and waving like a member of the British Aristocracy whenever she spots a potential audience and seems ever so slightly miffed when she’s not fawned over.
She is also so strong-willed and bloody-minded that we wouldn’t be surprised if our bolshy bambino ends up becoming the benevolent dictator of some small unsuspecting nation that we pass through on our travels.
The fact that she survived infancy without being marinated in a nice white wine sauce and devoured by her brother is proof of her single-minded determination to take over the planet one tiny step at a time.
The dad – Mr Eats World is British. In spite of the fact that he has chips and battered spam in his DNA he shares not only my passion for new cuisines and exciting flavours but also my wanderlust. He is also rather sexy, piss funny, and, given the wild eccentricities of his Aussie wife and kids, quite possibly the most patient man alive. (he’s also a little camera shy)
The mama. That’s me. I’m Ms Eats World, but you can call me Aleney. Since reproducing I also respond to mama, mummy, honey, hey lady and the random series of grunts and gesticulations that my children frequently use in place of words. I am a mum. The aforementioned kids were probably a giveaway, right? Less obvious to the untrained eye is that, when I’m not chasing about a pair of small nutjobs or cooking up a storm in my pathetically small kitchen, I moonlight as a freelance magazine publisher, editor, writer and blogger (you can read more tales of all things IVF, Infertility and parenting here). While the former is my joyful priority, the latter keeps me from being institutionalised. I also confess to having an addiction to travel that borders on needing professional intervention and care far too much about eating. For contact details and disclosure click here.