The Great Fibre Negotiation
Dad Blog and Dough
Every parent knows this phase.
One week your child eats strawberries, carrots, yogurt, and anything green.
The next week they will only eat plain pasta and beige food.
My daughter is currently in what I call:
The Beige Era.
Pasta.
Toast.
Crackers.
Occasionally a banana if the stars align and Mercury isn’t in retrograde.
Now here’s the thing about being a single dad.
You are tired.
So, what do you do?
You eat what she eats.
Because cooking two meals after a long day is something only organised adults do.
I am not organised adults.
I am one chaotic man with a flour-covered apron and a child negotiating pasta shapes like a UN peace treaty.
“Trying to understand the eating habits of a small human.”
The Honest Dad Reality
So, after a few weeks of the Beige Diet, something starts happening.
After three weeks of pasta, toast and dinosaur nuggets, my digestive system filed a formal complaint. This cannot be how adult humans are supposed to live! Surely one small child cannot have this much influence over a grown man’s diet?
I offered broccoli once.
She responded with the same expression people reserve for tax audits.
You realise that surviving on toast, pasta and leftover dinosaur nuggets may not be the best long-term digestive strategy.
Let’s just say…
Dad’s plumbing stops running on schedule.
I will spare you the dramatic details.
But at some point, you stand in the kitchen at midnight thinking:
"I am a grown man. Surely I can solve this problem."
“When the devil says eat pizza and the angel says eat fibre.”
The Dad Solution
Now here is the thing about me.
I do not do, complicated recipes.
If it involves twelve bowls, a mixer, and cleaning for an hour afterwards…
It is not happening.
I am a single dad.
My cooking philosophy is:
One bowl. One spoon. Minimal washing up. Maximum survival.
Single Dad Cooking Rules
1. One bowl.
2. One spoon.
3. No complicated washing up.
4. If it takes longer to clean than to cook — it’s not happening.
So, after some experimenting, I created what I now call:
Dad Survival Bread.
The Recipe
Dad Survival Bread (The “Please Fix My Life” Loaf)
What you need:
250 gram self raising flour
250 grams Nutty Wheat flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon Bicarbonate of Soda
625 grams double thick white Greek Yogurt
125 mls milk
62 grams of sugar( optional)
Add in whatever mixed seeds, rolled oats, chopped walnuts or pecans and raisins you like until the ancestors say stop. I use about a cup and a half inside, sometimes more and sprinkle more on top!
What you do:
Put everything in a bowl.
Stir with a spoon like a tired human! Sometimes I use my hand and a glove, less washing up. Mix through well!
Pour into a loaf tin that has either been sprayed with grease or lined with waxed paper.
Bake at 180°C for about 60-75 minutes. Baking times depend on ovens of course but when a skewer comes out clean, its done.
These can be baked in mini loaf tins or muffin cups as well but adjust your baking time
I slice and freeze extra loaves as this is great toasted with honey on it!
That’s it.
No mixer.
No drama.
No mountain of dishes.
Just fibre… and dignity restored.
“Proof that even chaos can produce something useful.”
Parenthood is strange.
You start out trying to raise a child.
And somewhere along the way you realise the child is also slowly raising you.
Teaching patience.
Teaching compromise.
Teaching you that sometimes dinner will be pasta for the third night in a row…
And sometimes the most heroic thing you can do is quietly bake a loaf of bread at midnight to keep your digestive system functioning like an adult.
Such is the glamorous life of a single dad.
The good news is the bread works.
The bad news is I may now be legally required to keep making it.
“At last, its time to poo!”
“Out of Chaos, comes craft!”
