I love to cook. Seriously, love every aspect of it…discovering a new recipe or taste combination, buying the ingredients, prepping my mise en place, executing my vision (whether flawlessly or faultily). Even, dare I say it? Yes…even the cleaning up afterward. Though by that I mean looong afterward, once whatever delicacy I’ve created has been enjoyed and digested (And, in the eyes of my husband, the pans have congealed and hardened.)
I am not a chef, and have no aspirations to be. But I am a die-hard home cook.
Which is why it pains me so much that mealtime has become a battle zone in our home.
Enter Mr. F and Ms. F (Master and Mistress Finicky Mc-Picks-a-Lot), two of the most selective eaters ever to turn their noses up at a lovingly prepared plate. Well, ever since I was the one turning up my little nose at my own mother’s entrées.
See, my kids come from a long line of finicky eaters. So I have no reason to expect them to embrace anything other than a constant diet of nitrate-filled hot dogs. After all, it was good enough for me, right? And I eventually developed a more adventurous palate.
Still, it kills me that my family is experiencing such a high level of food dysfunction. Specifically, it kills me that I can hear my own father’s stubborn insistence echoing in my voice when I shrilly scream that they will eat everything on their plates, or else…
(The day they think to ask me, “Or else…what?” I’m done for.)
So I am looking for a solution that will heal the rift and hopefully give us something to bond over when it comes to food. Because this war zone thing is not fun. And I’m pretty sure if it keeps up, I’m going to end up doing more long-term damage than good.
My solution? It boils down to bribery, plain and simple. But hopefully, fun, delicious bribery.
Every week, six-year-old Mr. F or two-year-old Miss F will accompany me on a quest to find something to tempt their palates. It will be a group effort, and they will have final say over whatever ingredient/dish we land on. But if they play nice and come to this experiment with an open mind and palate, I will, in fact, not insist on force feeding them every other night of the week.
That’s not to say I’ll allow them to starve. But if chicken and peas are not what they’re hankering for on any given night, I will concede to that beloved standby, peanut butter and apples, instead of insisting they clean their plates.
Simple, right? We shall see. I suspect I will have some surprises ahead of me. But, then again, maybe they will, too.
Ah, the ongoing struggle of trying to feed and nourish our kids. It’s funny but last night over dinner, when our son didn’t want to try his turkey, his tone and voice reminded me a lot of myself. I remember those days of my wanting to eating nothing but hot dogs. Hopefully, we can find a balance that will enable them to try new things and they get fed!
ok, kc, i like it. but when did you start writing for ‘parents’ magazine?!?!
i like your kids because they (sometimes) make my kids look like good eaters.
i can share, if you like, what i have learned about snap peas and grapefruit (not together. and i also would like to be a part of the “miracle fruit tablets” experiment. (its a future idea for a post, you might not have had it yet, but you will)