Bee - The secret ingredient family cookbook: healthy meals for all the family

HarperCollinsPublishers
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First published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2014

FIRST EDITION

Text Sally Bee 2014
www.sally-bee.com
Photography Lis Parsons 2014, except for Images 4, 9, 21 & 34 Dogan Halil

A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

Sally Bee asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

Cover photography Lis Parsons
Cover design HarperCollinsPublishers 2014

Food Stylist: Denise Smart
Props Stylist: Liz Hippisley
Commissioning Editor: Vicky Eribo
Project Editor: Georgina Mackenzie
Design: Geoff Fennell
Cover designer: James Empringham

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Source ISBN 9780007420179
Ebook Edition JANUARY 2014 ISBN: 9780007420186
Version 2013-12-10

I love mealtimes in my house. We live in a very modest little home and the kitchen is most definitely the heart of it. We have just built a new island in the middle of the kitchen and we are all like bees to a honey pot around it. There is always some music on somewhere, someone usually playing guitar, my daughter and her friends singing, dancing and talking non-stop! Lots of laughter, too much giggling and silliness, homework, spilt milk on the homework, heated debates, wrestling between boys, dogs eating the cat food and cats eating the dog food. Shouting, laughing, loving, crying it all happens in my lovely little family kitchen. The thing that always surprises me is how quiet, all of a sudden, everything becomes when a meal lands on the table. Silence. Just while everyone takes the first bite, and then the hubble bubble starts again and we talk over each other, at each other, for each other. Its chaos, but its our chaos and we all appreciate just how lucky we are.

For those of you who may not be aware, let me take you on a quick guided tour of my story so far.

At the time of writing this book, Im hurtling towards an anniversary that I have mixed feelings about. Im not sure if I should be celebrating with champagne and a cake or be in hiding in a darkened room. This summer it will be nine years since I died and nine years since I came back to life. I was 36 years old when my life took this dramatic turn. One moment everything was just as it should be, taking care of my three babies, being supermum, whizzing from toddler groups to mums groups. The next minute my whole life got turned upside down, never to be the same again.

This nine-year anniversary is particularly pertinent to me because I remember so well lying in my hospital bed, in shock, in pain, no breath, hooked up to wires and bleeping monitors. I whispered to one of the cardiologists at the time to ask if I was going to survive. He looked down at his shoes and shook his head. They had performed an emergency procedure the night before and had seen the damage my heart had sustained during my three long and painful heart attacks. They had called my husband into the operating theatre to say his goodbyes to me. After a couple of weeks recovering in hospital I remember having a heart-to-heart with one of the doctors. I needed to know how long I would live. I needed to make arrangements and plans and make sure my babies were going to be OK.

It was clear that they were surprised that Id survived the attacks. They were amazed I had survived the night. It was a miracle that I had survived two weeks. I asked about the next ten years pushing my luck, I knew, but determined to face everything head on. The doctor smiled to me and said, Sally, if you can survive 10 years after all this, you can survive forever!

At 36, I wasnt your typical heart patient, and while recovering I remember looking around the coronary care ward and feeling out of place. A nurse came to talk to me about life after a heart attack and gave me leaflets about what I could and couldnt do. These leaflets bore no resemblance to my life at home whatsoever. Washing up my cup and saucer was fine, they said, I could also smooth down my bedspread to make my bed and should try to resume sexual relations no more stressful than watching a TV comedy, apparently! But this was advice for heart patients in their 70s, 80s and 90s. Smoothing down the bedspread? How would I manage just this when I had three children at home wanting to have ride on the super-king-sized flying-carpet-quilt whenever I made the bed?

It was a valuable lesson for me, medicine often sees patient as a cut out, with everyone put on the same plan as the person before them. I realised that if I had any chance of regaining my normal life then I would have to rewrite the leaflets to make them apply to me.

This went for healthy eating too. Very quickly after my heart attacks I realised that when I ate healthy, nutritionally-packed food, my body reacted in a positive way. But if I didnt take care with what fuel I fed my body, I would very quickly begin to lose any of the precious energy I had and start to feel poorly again. Its important that every member of the family bends and shapes their diet to suit their age and lifestyle.

If you are super busy and energetic, flying here and there, you will need to eat more and more often. If you are sitting at your desk most of the day and dont get to move around so much, youll need smaller portions and lighter meals.

So if you are hoping to gain good health through healthy eating, make sure the recipes you choose match your lifestyle and your taste. The Secret Ingredient Family Cookbook has recipes that are suitable for everyone in the family. Whether you have time to plan and cook or need speedy dishes that can be super quick to prepare, you are sure to find something that pleases your taste buds and matches your lifestyle and that of your family.

Emotionally, my recovery after my heart attacks was very tough and, as crazy as it sounds, food played a part in my emotional recovery too.

It took about a year to start to recover properly but eventually me and my family became strong and happy again. To begin with I was afraid of absolutely everything. I was afraid to laugh, cry, love, feel anger, feel passion; I was just a quivering mess of worry and fear.

Gradually, with the help of my darling family and my precious friends, I started to rebuild the old Sally. I had to get strong again, physically and emotionally. I had no strength, no spare breath. If I walked up the stairs to read my boys a story before bed, I would have to lie down at the top of the stairs for 10 minutes to get my breath back before I could speak to them. I had also lost all my confidence that everything would be OK. The future was bleak for me, or so I thought. I was grieving the loss of my health and used to look at my family, thinking I wanted to do absolutely everything possible to make their lives wonderful, yet I didnt even have the strength to simply pick up my baby and cuddle her tears better.