Tuesday April 7

There is a grand difference between waking up and getting up. The time in between could span several hours on a good day. Today was one of those days, everything kind of moved in slow motion, whether I was still used to the languid lifestyle of the Miami resort or just don’t have the energy like I used to have is still being decided but I managed to be some what productive. I organized some stuff for my neighbor and also wrote for a few hours before attending my friend’s birthday dinner. I’m a really big fan of food. I spent four plus hours looking at different food instas and it made me think about food and kids, more specifically the kid’s menu. Almost any restaurant, even the best of the best, will feature a kid’s menu where you can see items such as chicken fingers and French fries, a hamburger, maybe mac and cheese. Often these menu items stay the same regardless when it comes to the restaurant’s cuisine, and this got me thinking about how we perceive children’s preferences when it comes to food and whether or not we’re limiting their palate by relying on the tried and true options.

    Now I was a ridiculously picky eater growing up and I still am pretty picky now- anything that’s too wet (salad dressings, soups), anything with mushrooms, anything chocolate (except for box brownies made “cake like”, Publix brand cupcakes, and Cosmic Brownies with the icing peeled off), etc,etc I won’t eat it. But my mom loves good food and when I was younger, I’d go to dinner with her and try whatever she was eating. While some of my cousins and friends were explicitly told to only look at the kid’s menu, I was encouraged to look at the whole thing.

   While I tended to gravitate toward what was familiar (chicken fingers and French fries) I also took chances to try things that were a little out of my comfort zone. I felt empowered because I knew, that if worse came to worst and it was, as my 8-year-old self would day “totally gross”, then I wouldn’t have to eat it, it would just serve as an experience, another opportunity to develop my palate; I could just get something else. This privilege of trying new things is one most parents won’t, or unfortunately can’t, give. For one it takes longer and there’s some risk factor involved. Are you going to let your hungry and irritated 9 year old try the ricotta pancakes when you know there’s a 60% chance she wont like it? Are you prepared to deal with the possible breakdown? And the 20 plus minutes of waiting for her oatmeal to come out, the thing you probably should’ve ordered for her in the first place? And it’s also expensive, you’re essentially running the risk of buying two dinners for your child(ren) every time you go out. And its one thing when it’s a small plate and you can just eat it there or something easily reheated like pasta, but another when it’s rose water sorbet, which will undoubtedly, melt into a $12 puddle on the way home.

    But I still think that parents should try to constantly expose their kids to new things, using a positive pressure; not the old school “eat all this or you’re not leaving the table”. My Nana tried that when I wouldn’t eat collard greens (too wet) and I fell asleep at the table that night, when she came back a couple hours later to check on me I had arranged all the chairs to make a bed and used place mats as my covers. She rolled her eyes and chuckled “what am I a going to do with you?” as I made myself a pb&j and skipped off, munching on my success.

     One time when I was younger I remember being at my godbrother’s house and his Dad, Duane was trying to get me to eat this plum jam. I was a strictly grape jelly girl back then and the prospect of putting plum on my toast seemed horrifying. I wasn’t having it.

‘C’mon’, Duane said, smearing the tiniest bit on a corner of my toast, ‘try it.’

‘Ky It’s really good’ my mom said, crumbs raining from her hand for emphasis, ‘just one little bite.’

I eyed the toast warily. They began to chant, frat boy style.

‘Try it! Try it! Try it!’

‘Ahh!’, I yelled, and bit into the bread wincing, expecting an onslaught of ew to fill my mouth. Instead… it was great Better than grape even! My mom and Duane stared at me, eyes wide and expecting.

‘Not bad’, I crunched ‘I like it.’

I smiled as they whooped in victory. The whole point of this, or is supposed to be, choice is good. In literature and in food. Your kid might like risotto better than they like mac and cheese and your kid might like lamb kabobs and rice pilaf better than chicken fingers and French fries but you’ll never know unless you let them try. Give your kids choice, your seven year old will have the most sophisticated palate on the block.