Posted by: OffToExplore | May 21, 2011

Picky

I don’t really know how it happened, but I have a picky eater for a daughter. We started out so well — her first food was apple sauce, second Palak Paneer, and she loved both. But somehow over the last year, the list of B-approved foods has gotten smaller and smaller.

Berries? Yes, as well as most other fruit. Yogurt? Yes, please, for every meal if allowed. Peanut butter and toast? Of course. Cereal? Only grown-up cereal, please. Preferably off a grown-up’s spoon while they are consuming it themselves. Hummous? Like manna from heaven, apparently. We can work with all of this.

But veggies? Not a chance. Not a one. Not even the not-really-veggies veggies, like potatoes. She’s not interested. Meat? You’ve got to be kidding. She’ll gleefully point it out on her plate, then hand it back to us.

So imagine my surprise this morning. R had cooked himself some of the dread black pudding for breakfast. I was keeping my distance. He offers some to B, and she initially gets a bit excited, since all the pudding she’s ever had was sweet. Once she sees what’s really on offer, circles of black meat-like stuff, she’s a bit more cautious. She walks away to the toy bin, but amazingly, she’s back within a minute to look more carefully at the “pudding.” And when he offers again, she says yes! Then proceeds to eat enough of it that he was still hungry when all the pudding was gone. Amazing.

What is black pudding, you may ask (if you’re not from around here, that is)? Well, it’s, um, blood. Cooked with oatmeal, onions, and other bits of meat and formed into a sausage-like thing. My kid, who turns her nose up at plain chicken, just dived into something made of congealed blood. I am amazed.

(And on a random editorial side note, I just checked and the past tense of dive can be either dived or dove, with dove somewhat more prevalent in the UK. But since that can also be misread as a small white animal to be released at pretentious weddings, I’m gonna stick with the dived.)

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Responses

  1. Um, speaking as one who eats no meat and hates most cooked veggies, ROCK ON KIDDO! As for the dove/dive thing, you are only 35 years too late. My grandmother always corrected me saying unless I became a bird I can’t say I dove.


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