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.
