As we made our way through the morning brightness of the supermarket carpark, my culinary expert, who also happens to be my two-year-old son, discussed our possible fruit choices. Inside, each colourful item was chosen through one of two methods: either my expert immediately saw the correct choice and I was swiftly informed if I made a poor selection (the strawberry punnet was replaced forthwith) or my expert had to take time carefully weighing up all the potential options. Oranges were gently and reverently picked up and turned around until we had exactly the right one.
After a quick stop for a takeaway coffee, my expert and I returned home to make up the platter. My expert took a directorial role from his learning tower, though he deigned to assist with washing and drying our vibrant bounty. I sliced, scooped, arranged and placed the fruit in the locations selected for me. Once each piece of fruit had found its home in the platter, we saw before us a melody of sweet, tart and juicy reds, greens, oranges and pinks.
The platter was consumed at a nature reserve. A group friends sat at a picnic table, squinting into the glare, surrounded by bird calls and sudden, delightful bursts of laughter. The remains of the platter are now tucked safely in a Tupperware in the fridge, ready to be enjoyed tomorrow as part of one little expert’s lunch.