Gluttony

Pile of fritters

“I’m doing some fritters”, I say to the children, “Who wants some?”

“Me!” says DS, our resident food dumpster.

“Are they apple?” asks DD, guardedly.

“No. Courgette” I reply.

“Er, no, then”, DS back-pedals rapidly, announcing, “Courgettes are evil!”

I have a glut of courgettes from the garden at the moment and I am struggling to keep up with eating them, so I make the fritters anyway, (after a quick trip to the supermarket to stock up on a few essentials that have run out while we have been on our travels to various events).

I am fond of vegetable fritters of the latke variety, as you may know from the recipe in a previous post. They are quick and easy to make, more-ish and very satisfying. OK, so they probably aren’t the healthiest option since they are fried, but I don’t care. I make my fritters up by grating 2 medium courgettes and 1 small sweet potato, chopping and crushing 2 cloves of garlic and finely chopping 1 small green chilli. I also add in some finely shredded white cabbage, crumble in some Feta that needs using up and, obviously, mixing it all up with 2 eggs, some plain flour and seasoning and a little milk to make them more batter-y.

DS wanders into the kitchen just as I am about to decant the first batch onto kitchen paper to drain and asks, “Can I try some?”

“Sure, but I haven’t tasted them yet, so we can share the first one.” I want to taste it first as the Feta was rather ripe…it tastes fine.

“Mmmm, these are nice”, DS agrees. “Spicy”, he adds thoughtfully. They aren’t really, unless you happen to get a bit of the chilli on the end of your tongue.

“Is that a problem?” I ask.

“No”, he says, “Can I have another one?” I put a few more on the draining plate and indicate for him to help himself. DD ambles over and has a taste too.”They’re OK”, she announces before wandering off again. D(“Courgettes are evil”)S, on the other hand asks, “How many can I have?”

“Well, lets leave a couple for Daddy”, I say, as I finish scoffing my fourth.

“OK”, he agrees and we both regretfully tear ourselves away from the plate. A hit, I think 🙂