Navigating through the bustling farmers’ market, I found myself in quite the rush. Clutching my cash, I was just a step away from acquiring my dozen of organic, free-range eggs when a mother ahead of me began to pile items onto her order.
“I WANT IT!” her toddler shouted, pointing at vibrant carrots while clinging to her hip. With a smile that seemed rehearsed, she handed over the carrots to the perspiring teen behind the stall. “MINE!” the little one insisted again, this time eyeing some pink fingerling potatoes.
“How could you refuse?” she exclaimed, her theatrical tone grating on my nerves as the line grew longer. “Look at him! He only wants his veggies!” My irritation soared as her child next demanded cranberry beans. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy; I remember when I, too, was that proud parent.
I have two spirited sons, ages 6 and 8, who have always been adventurous eaters. When that popular book about sneaking spinach into brownies was released, I was taken aback. My kids devour spinach, whether raw or cooked, along with broccoli, beans, squash, and kale. One son even insists that beets must be served warm, but I try to overlook that quirk.
I’ve relished witnessing the astonishment of others when they observe my children’s appetites. In our local Italian restaurant, my youngest is affectionately dubbed “the kid who orders extra spinach.” During a family trip to a high-end Japanese eatery, the young server gasped when my boys ordered ikura sushi and tako—salmon eggs and octopus. “I didn’t even try that until adulthood!” she exclaimed. “And I’m Asian!”
These reactions sometimes make me wonder just how dire the situation is for most children. “You’re the first child to order veal medallions with fennel and lemon butter sauce,” a waitress remarked recently. I could only respond with disbelief, as that dish is merely a variation of meat and potatoes.
For a time, I naively credited my parenting skills for their fearless palates. “It’s my adventurous spirit!” I thought. “It’s my relaxed approach!” I believed it was because I consistently served vegetables at dinner and never offered chicken nuggets or boxed mac and cheese.
What a joke. If my children’s behavior mirrored mine, then one could assume I also pick my nose and use my shirt as a napkin.
So, if not due to my excellent parenting, where does their culinary bravery stem from? It’s likely a combination of birth order and personalities: a laid-back eldest child, a younger sibling eager to impress, and a dad with an adventurous palate. At our table, being picky is simply not an option.
An even more compelling theory is that their adventurous eating habits blossomed from my initial hesitance. As a nervous new mother, I adhered strictly to guidelines. Baby’s first meal should consist of precisely one tablespoon of rice cereal mixed with breast milk, introduced in minute increments while monitoring for any signs of allergies.
I’ve relaxed since those days. However, because of my caution, I never encouraged my boys to sample oysters and mussels (favorites of my now 8-year-old) while in their high chairs. Instead, I thought, “No! You can’t want that! You’re a baby! You’ll choke! How about more pureed mush from a jar?”
Living in New York City means we consume sushi regularly. We typically offer our toddler cooked items, like teriyaki chicken or avocado rolls. However, it wasn’t long before he noticed that his father was enjoying something different: mackerel sashimi. And, of course, dad obliged.
Ah, the art of reverse psychology, albeit unintentional. I found myself hesitantly asking our pediatrician if toddlers could eat raw fish. Living in Manhattan, he nonchalantly informed me that his own children enjoyed sushi frequently.
Thanks to my parenting missteps, I now revel in a lack of mealtime disputes. Nonetheless, there are downsides. When children develop gourmet tastes, they often shun ordinary fare. After indulging in sushi for a while, both boys went through a phase of refusing cooked fish. This was frustrating since fish is nutritious and I’m not a sushi chef. Watching toddlers munch on expensive sushi is charming; however, seeing two growing boys devour it after a soccer game can be a financial drain. And then there’s the snob factor. Picture a round-faced three-year-old asking a weary waitress at a roadside diner, “What are today’s specials?”
At times, it’s not as adorable as it seems.
Yet, having experienced relatively smooth dinners, I’ve gained unique perspectives. When one of my children claims to dislike something, I find it easy to refrain from commenting. It’s not a display of remarkable self-control; I simply don’t mind. If a child who enjoys rutabaga, salmon Provencal, split pea soup, and stuffed peppers tells me he’s not fond of the capers in the pasta sauce, I find it unremarkable.
I cannot instruct you on how to cultivate adventurous eaters, as I realize I cannot take credit for mine. However, I can share that avoiding discussions about vegetables is a delightful approach.
So, I grant you permission, the next time you find yourself in a similar situation, to simply let it slide. Should you order Chinese, knowing your three-year-old occasionally enjoys chicken and broccoli but hasn’t touched anything green in weeks (except for a lime popsicle), and they refuse to eat it this time, imagine they usually dine like culinary connoisseurs. Visualize them polishing off fresh root veggies with spicy hummus, miso soup with tofu, and bean shoots in sesame oil just yesterday.
I encourage you to enjoy a night free from concern. Hand over the bag of odd fried noodles the restaurant included, allowing your child to nibble on those. As for the chicken and broccoli? Declare, “More for me!” and pour yourself a glass of wine. Relish the peace, and who knows—perhaps your silence will influence them positively.
In conclusion, parenting can often feel like a balancing act between guidance and letting go. Embracing the unpredictability of children’s eating habits might just lead to more enjoyable mealtime experiences.
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