Food is more fun when everyone gets a turn.
I still believe that, even on the weeks when I’m cooking alone, moving fast, just trying to get something nourishing on the table between everything else life throws our way.

Most days are busy. Really busy. And often, cooking becomes a solo job. Head down, hands moving, ticking a box. There’s nothing wrong with that — it’s real life — but it’s not the bit I love most.

The bit I love most is when I make the time to share the kitchen.

Saturday Mornings with my Nan

Some of my earliest food memories come from Saturday mornings in my nan’s kitchen. Nothing fancy. No rush. Just French toast and time.

Nan cracked the eggs, I whisked. Eggs, cream, a bit of sugar. No measuring. I dunked the bread, passed it over, and watched it sizzle in butter until it turned golden.

We ate it together with lashings of jam, sticky fingers and nowhere else to be.

I didn’t know it then, but that was where my love for shared cooking really began.

Nan’s French Toast (Just How We Made It)

This is exactly how I remember it.

You’ll need:

Eggs
Cream
A little sugar
Bread
Butter
Jam (plenty)

How to make it:
Whisk the eggs, cream, and sugar together.
Dunk the bread and let it soak.
Cook in butter until golden brown on both sides.
Serve hot with lashings of jam.

That’s it. No rules. No stress. Just a good place to start.

🌱 Why It Still Matters

When kids get a turn in the kitchen, something shifts. They feel capable. Curious. Proud. They’re more likely to try new food and more likely to care about where it comes from.

And when adults step back and invite others in, the whole process feels better. Less pressure. More connection.

Turns matter.
Not just for cooking, but for confidence.
For care.
For community.

💚 The Happy Scraps Way

At Happy Scraps, this idea runs through everything we do. Food made together. Food shared. Food that doesn’t need to be perfect to be meaningful.

Whether it’s a kid whisking eggs, a volunteer stirring a pot of soup, or a neighbour sitting down for a meal, everyone gets a turn.

And honestly, that’s when food is at its best.

If you want, next we can:

tighten this for a newsletter version
turn the French toast into a printable recipe card
or pull a couple of very-you quotes from it for socials

Just tell me what’s next.

can we thread in that with my busy life I often have to cook alone, but I lovee most when I can make the time to share the kitchen, especially with my kids. their favourite is pancakes, include the recipes...Xav likes to pop blueberries in when they're in the pan& Penelope likes a classic lemon & sugar.

Yes, we can thread that in beautifully. Here’s a revised version that keeps your voice, adds the reality of your busy life, and brings in Xavier and Penelope naturally, without tipping into “sentimental overload”.

Food Is More Fun When Everyone Gets a Turn

Food is more fun when everyone gets a turn.
I still believe that, even on the weeks when I’m cooking alone, moving fast, just trying to get something nourishing on the table between everything else life throws our way.

Most days are busy. Really busy. And often, cooking becomes a solo job. Head down, hands moving, ticking a box. There’s nothing wrong with that — it’s real life — but it’s not the bit I love most.

The bit I love most is when I make the time to share the kitchen.

Saturday Mornings with my Nan

Some of my earliest food memories come from Saturday mornings in my nan’s kitchen. Nothing fancy. No rush. Just French toast and time.
Nan cracked the eggs, I whisked. Eggs, cream, a bit of sugar. No measuring. I dunked the bread, passed it over, and watched it sizzle in butter until it turned golden.
We ate it together with **lashings of jam**, sticky fingers and nowhere else to be.
I didn’t know it then, but that was where my love for shared cooking really began.

Nan’s French Toast
(Just How We Made It)

This is exactly how I remember it.
**You’ll need:**
Eggs
Cream
A little sugar
Bread
Butter
Jam (plenty)
**How to make it:**
Whisk the eggs, cream, and sugar together.
Dunk the bread and let it soak.
Cook in butter until golden brown on both sides.
Serve hot with **lashings of jam**.
That’s it. No rules. No stress. Just a good place to start.

Cooking Alone vs Cooking Together

These days, life looks different. There are meals made quickly, late nights, and plenty of times I’m cooking on my own. That’s just the season I’m in.

But whenever I can slow things down and invite the kids in, the whole energy shifts. The mess increases. The time stretches out. And somehow, everything feels better.

That’s when the kitchen feels like home again.

Right now, the favourite shared-kitchen meal in our house is pancakes.

Xavier loves to pop blueberries straight into the batter once it’s in the pan, watching them bubble and burst as they cook.

Penelope is a classic girl. She waits patiently, then finishes hers with lemon and sugar, every single time.

No arguments. No wrong choices. Just preferences and pride in how you like your food.

And that’s the magic.

Our Go-To Pancake Recipe

Simple, forgiving, and perfect for little helpers.
**You’ll need:**
1 cup self-raising flour (gluten free for us)
1 egg
1 cup milk
A knob of butter for the pan

How to make it:
Whisk everything together until smooth.
Heat a pan with a little butter.
Pour in the batter.
Add blueberries straight into the pancake if you’re team Xav.
Flip when bubbles appear.
Serve hot.

Finish with lemon & sugar if you’re team Penelope — or whatever makes you happy.

Why I Still Make Space for It

When kids get a turn in the kitchen, they learn more than recipes. They learn confidence. Choice. Care.

And when I get a turn to slow down with them, I’m reminded why food matters to me in the first place. Not because it’s perfect. Not because it’s fast. But because it’s shared.

Even if it’s just pancakes on a busy morning.

The Happy Scraps Way

At Happy Scraps, this belief runs through everything we do. Food made together. Food shared. Food that allows space for different hands, different tastes, and different turns.

Some days we cook alone.
Some days we cook together.

And when we can make the time to share the kitchen — especially with our kids — that’s when food feels like more than food.

That’s when it feels like connection.