The farmers’ market was bustling, and I was pressed for time. With cash in hand, only one patron stood between me and my purchase of a dozen organic, grass-fed eggs. However, the woman in front of me seemed oblivious to the growing line as she added items to her cart.
“I WANT IT!” her toddler shrieked from her hip, pointing at a bunch of vibrant carrots. The mother grinned, handing the carrots to the beleaguered vendor. “MINE!” the child insisted again, this time eyeing some rosy fingerling potatoes. “How can you refuse?” she exclaimed, her tone dripping with pride, as the line behind her continued to elongate. My impatience escalated as the little tyrant next demanded cranberry beans.
You see, I have been guilty of that very same self-satisfied tone in the past, and I find little joy in being reminded of it.
I have two quirky sons, aged 6 and 8, who have always been open to trying anything on their plates. When that popular book about disguising spinach in brownies hit the shelves, I was flabbergasted; my kids consume spinach by the bushel—raw or cooked. They devour broccoli, beans, squash, and even kale. One of them insists on having beets served warm, but I try not to hold it against him.
Yes, I have relished the surprised looks from others when they discover my children’s food preferences. At our local Italian eatery, my 6-year-old is affectionately dubbed “the kid who wants extra spinach.” On a recent vacation at an upscale Japanese restaurant, the young server was taken aback when my children ordered ikura sushi and tako—salmon eggs and octopus. “I didn’t try that until I was an adult!” she exclaimed. “And I’m Asian!”
Such reactions sometimes lead me to believe that the eating habits of children must be quite dire these days. Recently, a waitress remarked, “You’re the first kid to order the veal medallions in fennel and lemon butter sauce.” I could only respond with a surprised, “Really?” after all, it was merely meat and potatoes.
For a while, I even naively believed I was the reason for their gastronomic courage. It was my adventurous spirit, I convinced myself. My relaxed approach! The fact that I placed a vegetable on the table every night, never serving chicken nuggets or boxed mac and cheese.
Cue the laughter.
I now see how misguided that line of thought was. If my children’s behavior was truly a reflection of my parenting, one might also assume I pick my nose and use my shirt as a napkin.
So, if my exemplary parenting isn’t the source of their adventurous palates, where does it come from? It might just be the unique combination of their birth order and our individual personalities: a laid-back older child paired with a younger sibling eager to prove himself, and a father who embraces culinary exploration. At our table, being picky is decidedly uncool.
A better explanation is that their adventurous eating stems from my earlier restrictions. As a nervous new mom, I followed the guidelines to the letter. Baby’s first meal should be precisely one tablespoon of rice cereal mixed with breast milk, introduced in tiny increments while closely monitoring for potential allergic reactions.
I have since relaxed my stance, but my cautious methods meant we never encouraged our boys to try oysters or mussels (now favorites of my 8-year-old) while they were in their high chairs. Instead, my mindset was: “No! You can’t possibly want that! You’re a baby! You’ll choke! Have more of this pureed mush from a jar.”
Living in New York City, we consume sushi regularly. Initially, I placed cooked options in front of our toddler—like teriyaki chicken or avocado maki. However, it wasn’t long before he noticed that his father’s chopsticks held something more enticing. He pointed at the mackerel sashimi, and without hesitation, his father obliged.
It’s reverse psychology at its finest—though it’s truly effective only when you’re unaware that you’re employing it. I found myself hesitantly asking our pediatrician if it was safe for toddlers to eat raw fish. In true Manhattan fashion, he shrugged and informed me that his children enjoyed sushi regularly.
Thanks to my parenting missteps, I’ve largely avoided mealtime struggles. Yet, there are downsides. When children develop gourmet tastes, they may turn their noses up at simpler fare. After all that sushi, my kids went through a phase where they refused to eat cooked fish. This was especially frustrating since fish is a healthy option, and I’m not a sushi chef. Toddlers eating high-end sushi is adorable, but two growing boys devouring sushi post-soccer practice becomes a costly indulgence.
Then there’s the snob factor. Picture your cherubic three-year-old gazing up at an exhausted diner waitress somewhere off the highway, asking her, “What are today’s specials?”
At times, it’s not as endearing as one might think.
However, since I’ve had the luxury of easy meals, I now possess a unique perspective. If one of my children claims not to like something, I remain silent. It’s not that I have extraordinary self-control; it’s simply that I don’t care. If a child who enjoys rutabaga, salmon Provencal, split pea soup, and stuffed peppers announces today that he dislikes the capers in the pasta sauce, my response is indifference.
I can’t prescribe a formula for cultivating adventurous eaters because I recognize I can’t take credit for the two I have. What I can offer is the firsthand insight that avoiding nagging about vegetable consumption is genuinely liberating.
Therefore, I grant you permission, the next time you find yourself in one of those moments, to let it slide. Suppose you ordered Chinese food because your three-year-old has shown a fondness for chicken & broccoli, and he hasn’t touched anything green in weeks—except for a lime popsicle—and tonight he refuses to eat it. Imagine that he usually dines like a Michelin-starred chef. Pretend he just yesterday devoured fresh root vegetables with spicy hummus, miso soup with tofu, and bean sprouts in sesame oil.
I insist that you take a break from caring. Hand your child that bag of peculiar little fried noodles the restaurant tossed in as an afterthought, and let him enjoy those instead. As for the chicken and broccoli? Just say, “More for me!” and pour yourself a glass of wine. Relish the peace of the moment. You never know—your silence might just shift the dynamic at the table.
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In summary, parenting styles can significantly influence children’s eating habits, but often, it’s a combination of personality and environmental factors that shape their preferences. Sometimes, stepping back and allowing children the freedom to explore their tastes can lead to unexpected culinary adventures.
Keyphrase: adventurous eaters
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