The farmers’ market was bustling, and I was racing against the clock. With cash in hand, I just wanted to pay for my dozen organic, pasture-raised eggs. But the woman in front of me was taking her sweet time, adding more and more items to her basket.
“I WANT IT!” her little tyrant of a toddler proclaimed from her hip, pointing at a bunch of vibrant, multicolored carrots. The mother beamed like she was on the red carpet as she handed over the carrots to the sweaty teen behind the stall. “MINE!” the toddler yelled again, this time eyeing some pink fingerling potatoes. “How can you say no to a toddler who only wants their veggies?” she gushed, as the line behind her grew longer. My irritation was mounting.
I must admit, I used to share that same self-satisfied tone. I have two goofy boys, aged 6 and 8, who have always been adventurous eaters. When I first came across that book about sneaking spinach into brownies, I was flabbergasted. My kids devour spinach like it’s candy—raw or cooked. They’re all about broccoli, beans, squash, and kale. One of them insists on having his beets served hot, but I try not to hold it against him.
And yes, I’ve relished the shocked expressions of adults when they see my kids eat. At our local Italian spot, my six-year-old is the kid known for requesting extra spinach on his pizza. During a vacation at an upscale Japanese restaurant last spring, our server was astounded when my children ordered ikura sushi and tako—salmon eggs and octopus. “I didn’t eat that until I was an adult!” she exclaimed, “And I’m Asian!”
Sometimes, I wonder if I’m just lucky. “You’re the first kid to order the veal medallions in fennel and lemon butter sauce,” a waitress once told me, and all I could think was, “Really?” It’s just meat and potatoes!
For a while, I even foolishly attributed their culinary courage to my own parenting skills. I wanted to believe it was my adventurous spirit, my relaxed attitude, or the fact that I always put vegetables on the table. I never served chicken nuggets or mac and cheese from a box.
Cue the laugh track.
I now realize how misguided that thinking was. If their eating habits were based on my example, you’d have to assume I also pick my nose and use my shirt as a napkin. So, if it’s not my parenting prowess, what’s behind their fearless appetites? It’s likely a mix of birth order and our personalities: one laid-back older brother, a younger sibling eager to prove himself, and a dad who’s always up for culinary adventures. In our home, being picky about food just isn’t a thing.
An even more intriguing theory is that their adventurous eating stems from my early attempts to control it. As a new mom, I strictly followed all the rules. Baby’s first meal? Exactly one tablespoon of rice cereal mixed with breast milk, and I was terrified of allergies. I would have never encouraged my boys to try oysters and mussels—their current favorites—back when they were in high chairs. Instead, I thought, “No! You can’t possibly want that! You’re just a baby! Have some more puréed goo from a jar.”
Living in New York City, we eat sushi frequently. We usually serve the cooked options first, like teriyaki chicken or avocado rolls. But it didn’t take long for my little one to notice that dad’s chopsticks were holding something way cooler. So he pointed at the mackerel sashimi, and you guessed it, daddy caved.
It’s reverse psychology, baby! Which, of course, only works if you’re blissfully unaware you’re doing it. I even shyly asked our pediatrician if it was okay for toddlers to eat raw fish. He shrugged and said his kids have sushi all the time.
Thanks to my parenting blunders, I’ve been spared the hassle of mealtime showdowns. But there are downsides. If you cultivate adventurous eaters, they may eventually turn their noses up at simple foods. Remember all that sushi? For a stretch, my kids refused to touch cooked fish, which was painful because fish is healthy, and I’m no sushi chef. Watching toddlers gorge on pricey sushi is cute, but two growing boys devouring sushi after a soccer game can make your wallet cringe. And there’s the snob factor—imagine your round-faced three-year-old asking a harried waitress at a diner, “What are the specials?”
Sometimes, it’s just not cute.
However, my easygoing approach to mealtime has its perks. When one of my kids declares he doesn’t like something, I don’t bat an eye. It’s not that I have incredible self-control; it’s just that I really don’t care. If a kid who eats rutabaga, salmon Provencal, split pea soup, and stuffed peppers complains about the capers in the pasta sauce, I’m just not fazed.
I can’t claim to have all the answers for raising adventurous eaters, because honestly, I know I can’t take credit for mine. But I can tell you that ignoring the fuss about veggies can be liberating.
So, I hereby give you permission—next time you’re in a similar situation, let it slide. Say you’ve ordered Chinese, and your three-year-old, who hasn’t touched a green veggie in weeks (except for that lime popsicle), suddenly refuses to eat the chicken & broccoli. Close your eyes and picture him as a Michelin-star chef in the making. Pretend that just yesterday, he devoured fresh veggies with spicy hummus, miso soup with tofu, and bean shoots in sesame oil.
I insist you take a night off from worrying. Hand your kid that bag of strange fried noodles the restaurant tossed in for free, and let him munch on those. As for the chicken and broccoli? Just say, “More for me!” and pour yourself a glass of wine. Enjoy the peace. And who knows—maybe your tranquility will shift the tide.
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Summary
In this humorous reflection, Jamie Thompson recounts her experiences as a mom navigating her kids’ adventurous eating habits. From the bustling farmers’ market to sushi dinners, she highlights the quirks and challenges of raising two boys with eclectic tastes. With a lighthearted tone, she encourages parents to embrace mealtime flexibility and not sweat the small stuff.