Food, Glorious Food!

I remember when my children were babies, just learning to eat vegetables I had pureed in the food processor. Both of them were willing to eat EVERYTHING I prepared for them except two things: rutabagas and cauliflower. And really, can you blame them? I happen to like them, sort of, but to expect a child to swallow such strange flavors is expecting quite a bit from them.

Their willingness to eat certain foods has been inconsistent at best. I am told this is typical of all children. (Thank goodness I have friends with typical children so I will know what normal is when it peeks its head into my house.) Ian used to love green beans; then he hated them; now he will eat them if it means he gets dessert. Ainsley changes her mind daily, hourly, minutely depending on what she thinks will irritate her brother. They both love broccoli, especially if it is smothered in ketchup.

In case you were wondering, ketchup IS a vegetable. It is a highly processed one at best, but it counts.

Recently, I ran across a recipe for mock mashed potatoes. Why "mock"? Because mashed potatoes are very high in carbs that are converted to sugar very quickly in the body. For Ian this is especially unhealthy with his hypoglycemia. The substitute? Cauliflower! This is really wonderful stuff, and it's even better with a little freshly grated Parmesan cheese over the top. My children will eat these. They are not wild about regular mashed potatoes. Someday I'll tell them about my secret recipe; but that won't be for a very long time.

We had those special mashed "potatoes" tonight. The salmon I was broiling didn't cook in the time I had planned, so we sat at the table eating vegies. By the time the salmon was ready to be eaten, my head was throbbing. Fish was the last thing I wanted to see or smell. I passed on the protein portion of the evening's menu.

Then Ian said, with great concern in his voice, "Mom, if you have a headache, can I have your dessert?"

Steve grinned so loudly I could almost hear his teeth chuckling for him. I smiled and tried not to laugh. Ian knew I had made a very special dessert for those who had Happy Plates at the end of the meal - gingerbread!

"Ian," I began, "my headache is such that the smell and taste of fish is very unappealing to me at the moment. The taste of homemade gingerbread, however, might just help me feel better."

I realized after I had said it that my children had just been exposed to what may have been the only obvious double standard in our home. By definition, I had a Happy Plate: I had eaten everything that I had taken. I just chose not to take the main course. Normally, my children would be expected to try everything on the table and to eat everything on their plates for them to be considered candidates for a Happy Plate status and the subsequent reward, dessert.

So, how did I handle this quandary? I left the room to take some Advil and did not return until it was time to serve the dessert. By then, everyone under the age of 9 had forgotten about the Happy Plate rule. They just couldn't wait to get their spoons into the whipped cream.