Kids say the darnedest things don’t they? I mean, don’t they? Those of a certain age (i.e. mine) may remember the programme Child’s Play, which seemed to exist solely to encourage children to make embarrassing revelations about their parents’ sex lives on national television. Fortunately LBB is far from this, indeed he has yet to reach the ‘why is that man/woman so fat/short/spotty?’ stage, although it is surely only a matter of time before this happens. Probably in a crowded train from which there is no escape. He has already started repeating, verbatim, things I say, which has pulled me up short on more than one occasion and had me searching around for suitable expletive-replacements. All suggestions gratefully received.
And whilst his little friends have begun to talk in sentences that even those unrelated to them can understand, I am required to decipher LBB-speak on a daily basis. This for example, is a refrain that can be heard in our house roughly 20 times a day: ‘more shoo-shaw mummy’. Roughly translated this means: ‘read me one of my many and in no way varied books about trains’. Ah Thomas how we love thee.
Another favourite LBB command is ‘doc kar mummy/daddy’ depending on who is closest to hand. It took us a while to work this one out, but we now know this to be an instruction to provide him with a brand of German-sounding spelt crackers: Dr Karg. LBB’s love for these seed covered crisp breads knows no bounds, which is unfortunate as they are both expensive and exclusively available at Waitrose in the flavour he favours. I thought I would therefore attempt to make some variation of them myself.
My first attempt at spelt crackers did not go well. I will not reveal the recipe I sort-of-followed, suffice to say I added too much water and ended up with a glutionous mess that resembled sludge-coloured playdough. Yum. This recipe ended much better. Possibly because I actually followed it, who can tell. Still no Doc Kar though.
Recipe from Smitten Kitchen blog: spelt everything crackers
Makes a sheet of crackers (yes really)
Dissolve the salt in the water and give it a good stir. Put it in a large bowl and add the flour. Bring the flour together with your hands until you have a shaggy dough.
Tip out onto a lightly floured surface and knead the dough for 5 or so minutes until you have a soft, smooth ball. I had been intending to do this by hand, but laziness got the better of me, so I stuck it in the free-standing mixer with the dough hook for 5 minutes.
Roll the dough out on a lightly floured surface. The idea is to get it as thin as possible, whilst still being able to move it. Try not to make the dough larger than the size of your baking sheet (duh!) or you will have to trim the edges, as I did.
Spray the dough with water from a water-mister (they sell them in garden shops and it’s surely only a matter of time before some enterprising sort re-markets them as a kitchen accessory for 5 times the price). Mine wasn’t suitable for going anywhere near food, so I wet my (obviously clean) hands and smoothed them over the dough. Prick the dough with a fork all over, and then sprinkle over seeds (I used sesame and poppy) and/or coarse sea-salt if using. The smitten kitchn blog recipe also uses dried onion bits but I’m not sure where sells them in the UK. Score with a sharp knife or pizza slice, this makes them easier to snap apart into vaguely similar sizes when cooked.
Sit back and bask in the warm glow of toddler compliments. Oh wait… (also good with dips etc).