Yet more on picky eaters

It turns out I have a lot to say about picky eaters. And again, this does relate to thrift, because dealing with a picky eater can cost you a lot both in money and your mental well-being.

Does mental well-being sound histrionic? It's not. As a culture, we're weird about food. Everything we eat should be a gourmet delight! and organic! don't forget local! better be cooking that shit yourself! how happy was your bacon before it was killed?

And all of this weirdness gets multiplied when it comes to your kids and how you feed them. Having a picky eater can be really tough when friends and family notice, comment on it, offer advice, get together behind your back to judge your parenting with little scorecards like the Olympics judges use, and you're a 2.0 . . . okay, that last thing probably isn't happening . . . that we can prove.

Sidenote: I know there are adult picky eaters, but I don't have a lot to say about them. Pretty much my thoughts on adult picky eaters are: have you heard of this new thing called a sandwich? Go make yourself one, sailor.

One tactic I forgot to mention in my previous post was: get lost in the fifties, baby. Think about a June Cleaver dinner, or maybe what Betty Draper fixed before Don came home smelling like booze and strange. These women fixed basic dinners: some protein, a starch, a veg. Chicken cutlet, rice, some green beans. Use this idea as a blueprint, and you avoid the pitfalls of casserole (too much stuff, stuff is undeniably compromised by TOUCHING OTHER STUFF,) stirfry (again, lots of slutty touching of components,) stuff with sauces (the offending sauce can simply be added to your portion,) and whatever foodstuff(s) your child knows is poison.

However, you are not doomed to eating like a convalescent, because you are going to (metaphorically) slip your plain dinner components into a filmy negligee for the adults. Stick with me on my metaphor Tilt-a-Whirl, kids.

Here's how this shakes down. You make something like chicken piccata, but cook the kid's piece until it's done through, and set it aside. You go on to finish the recipe, which is now extra-saucy (mrow.) You cook some noodles, which will go under your chicken and soak up your delightful sauce. Your child's noodles will go onto a completely separate part of the plate from his/her chicken, possibly with a demilitarized zone in between. You take a portion of steamed broccoli and toss it with a tad of butter, some salt, maybe a teensy dash of red paper flake. Child gets a portion that is perhaps lightly salted or lightly buttered or given whatever seasoning child will tolerate.

 Your child has fried chicken, plain noodles, and plain steamed broccoli. You have chicken piccata over pasta with spicy broccoli. Everyone eats, everyone is happy. This can happen in many iterations: you have maple-dijon pork chops, fruited couscous, and glazed carrots. Child has a plain pork chop (maybe with ketchup -- just avert your eyes,) plain couscous, and maybe carrot sticks. You have chicken parmesan, angel hair tossed with pesto, and green beans with tomatoes and basil. Shortstack has chicken fingers with marinara dipping sauce, plain noodles, and green beans with whatever level of seasoning doesn't cause a kerfuffle. Etc., etc., world without end, amen.

These ideas preserve the peace, preserve your sanity, and preserve you from spending a lot of money cooking two dinners. And these aren't the fanciest, most localganic, most impressive ideas, AND THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT. People are so rough on parents (mainly moms) in general, and particularly over how we feed our kids. The truth is, we feed our kids the best ways we know how. And on that note, I'll leave you with a quote from the ever-awesome Jan : I refuse to take credit for my kids' relatively adventurous eating, because that means that if they were picky eaters I would have to take the blame. No.

Say no to anyone who assigns you blame for how your kid eats. We know you're doing your best.