Not really doing a formal Cookbook Survivor this weekend: I’m still helping a family member recuperate from an injury, and that includes doing some of the cooking for their young children.
It is interesting to get back in touch with that challenge, though. Every family’s food culture is not only different at its base setting, but also in how and when it shifts, about the moments where what the kids think they like and what they know they like has some plasticity to it. I made a pork shoulder ragu last weekend so we’d have some finely chopped or shredded pork to work with after having a bit with the sauce and some pasta. The pork was later eaten without any objections when it was in eggrolls but it was sorted out of some tacos only a day later—but afterwards, I was told that they like the sort of carnitas you get at Chipotle (I roasted the shredded pork with a bit of orange juice, oil and salt instead) and I realized that I should have done it that way, in an Insta-Pot with some chicken broth, so that it was finely shredded, soft and had the chicken broth taste to it.
I always feel vaguely skeptical about people who say that when they were kids they ate everything their parents made if they’re talking about households that had the budget to have some variety in the meals and the parents weren’t strict disciplinarians. My grandmother used to constantly tell me that our slightly older cousin ate absolutely everything she was served by her parents because she was a good kid who respected her mom and dad, unlike me and my similarly finicky siblings, and I always thought that was b.s. We’d pepper her with challenges: would she eat pig’s feet? Would she eat sauerkraut? Would she eat lamb’s brain? Would she eat gruel? (We didn’t know what that was exactly but it was in all our stories.) My grandmother’s answer was always, “She would if her parents served it to her”. I figured that was either not true or if it was not to my cousin’s credit: we were more free to make choices, and that seemed better, or so I reckoned when I was a kid.
I was monstrously finicky for a while, though—the classic thing where multiple kinds of food could not and never should touch one another. I didn’t like stews, soups, etc. where flavors intermingled. I absolutely hated condiments on sandwiches or hamburgers, like they were poison. I didn’t like most sausage or processed meat because of that feeling of mixing (but also sometimes because of mouth feel on smoother sausage or processed meats). My sister was somewhat similar but I think more tolerant of some variation. I remember concretely some experiences that changed us: we started liking stir-fries in Chinese restaurants as well as eggrolls. My mom took me out one weekend by myself to a little bistro place for lunch and I decided to try an artichoke and I thought that was amazing and exotic. I started liking food with some spiciness to it, I started liking burritos despite the fact that I couldn’t pre-surveil all the contents.
On the other side of things, cooking for my own child, I could occasionally get frustrated that something I thought should work didn’t pass muster. (There are still things I’d like to make for us when she’s home that get vetoed.) On the other hand, she had friends when she was little who ate just about nothing but chicken nuggets, so I think I did ok.
It’s a fairly conventional take to say that this is the first domain where many American children express some sense of bodily autonomy, and it’s also a classic arena for struggle between parents and kids—about keeping foods that are judged harmful away, about making sure that there’s good nutrition, and also just making sure in many cases that the kids are getting enough food. But also we all want our kids to join us in exploring and delighting in food, and find it frustrating when we either have to cook three meals or forgo eating what we’d prefer to have. The sensible solution—which the adults in this household pursue—is to try a few new things now and again while keeping some acceptable food ready at hand in case that doesn’t go over well (without disclosing in advance that there’s a backup).
We’re doing hamburgers tonight, and I kind of goofed in shopping because I forgot temporarily that the adults need any baked goods to be gluten-free. That’s been another challenge: I haven’t really worked with gluten-free goods and the range of product has been a bit hard to sort through. Even with the simplest of meals thought to be the most kid-friendly, every small decision is potentially momentous within any given household food culture. Salt on the meat in advance? Maybe not! Cheese? Better check about the kids’ preferences (and dietary constraints). Doneness, size, etc. all matter and vary. Condiments that need to be available? If doing store-bought fries, what kind? There are kids who will eat tater tots with abandon and scorn shoestring fries, and vice-versa.
I’m mulling over if I want to do anything next week that they haven’t had before that they might actually like. I think at this point I might give schnitzel a try: it’s not that hard to make and kids usually like it. Maybe some pan-roasted salmon? I’ll keep thinking about what might be both “something new” and “something welcome” that is also “something the adults all like too”.
Image credit: Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash