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standard February 12, 2007 4 responses

I love to eat. Rather, I love food. Good food. Tastes that mingle in my mouth delighting all sorts of taste-buds. When I go to a good restaurant I look over the menu and even if something gives me pause, I’ll trust the chef’s vision and try it the way he or she imagined it.
I love to cook, trying new things, playing with new foods. My mother taught me to experiment with food and to have fun in the kitchen. She passed on her love of cookbooks and recipe hunting.
It goes without saying that I married into a family of extremely picky eaters, and M is the worst offender. Over the last 8 years I’ve slllooooowwwwlyyyy gotten him to try, and adopt, some new foods, but it’s an uphill battle and the war is far from won. I can walk into any restaurant and pick out the one thing that he won’t find offensive and be willing to eat. Often he has to modify that one thing to make it palatable. He doesn’t trust food, and there are too many things that he doesn’t like the taste of to be able to relax and just put something in his mouth and enjoy it. I persist in saying that if I could just blindfold him he’d enjoy meals much more, but he’ll never let me try so it’s fruitless speculation.
I had great hopes that my daughter would be an adventurous eater. (God knows I need someone on my team during family dinners!) But she’s not. Not at all. She’s showing signs of being as picky an eater as her dad. She hates to try new things. She freaks out if I approach her high-chair with something she’s never seen before. I have had to remove something from her sight just so she would stop crying and hyperventilating. I find it insanely frustrating. (I mean, ham, not so threatening, right?) After many tries we’ve finally found a system that allows me to introduce new foods. All new “courses” or foods are put on the table corner next to her high-chair. When she’s ready to try it she’ll reach over and poke at it or pick it up. Sometimes I can sneak something onto her tray top and distract her for a few minutes, if I’m lucky when she finally spots the offending item she might be willing to give it a try.
If she hates the new food she’ll make a face and hand it back to me. If I’m too far the food usually ends up on the floor.
If she likes the new food she’ll smile and say:
“Mama! I wike it! It’s YUMMY!”
Those words are music to my ears.

This post was inspired by the Sunday Scribblings prompt “Yummy.”

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