1. We are awash in squash over here. I had ordered a half bushel of butternut squash from our CSA last fall, and we’d eaten our way through two-thirds of it before I hit a wall and we took a little break from it.
2. My 3-year-old son has had a nasty cold all week. Not bad enough to actually slow him down or induce long naps, but sufficient to meet his school’s criteria for “keep your snotty-nosed kid at home.” So yesterday afternoon we were looking for things to do, and I decided it was time to clean up the house a bit. (This is an Event. I Cook a lot, but I don’t Clean very often).
3. In addition to the nasty cold, my son has some sensory processing things going on. He loves the vacuum cleaner, and it turns out that vacuuming is a “heavy work” activity which improves the vestibular sense. So, for my son, vacuuming is therapeutic. Woohoo!
Yesterday morning, after we’d vacuumed nearly the whole house, we moved on to the little room at the top of our stairs which has housed squash for the last few months. It’s unheated, and if I keep the door closed the ambient temperature hovers around 55 degrees – perfect for squash storage (but a little chilly for ironing, the other major function of the room).
While we were cleaning out the closet room I noticed that some of the half-dozen remaining squash were starting to “go.” Not wanting to waste them, I decided to cook them and freeze the puree for later use. My son very helpfully carried the squash downstairs, one at a time (more heavy work!) and had great fun playing with them in the kitchen. When I cut open the squash, he noticed that the seeds and strings looked a lot like sea anemones (another of his favorite things). I scooped the seeds into a bowl and let him rub his hands in them for - still more - sensory input. (Note: I’m onto something here. The sensory potential of vegetables is completely ignored in “The Out-of-Sync Child has Fun”).
I put the squash in the oven to bake, and while my son napped I scraped the flesh into a bowl. Later, he had great fun helping me make the squash puree by pressing buttons on the food processor. We used some of the puree to make a “pumpkin” pie, and he enjoyed mixing all the ingredients together.
My point? My boy spent almost *all afternoon* playing with butternut squash in its various forms, and had a fine time doing so. This isn't anything new for him, though, as he has akways had a love for vegetables since all he sees mommy doing is cook (remember? I don't clean).
This morning, my son mentioned that a little boy in his class (we’ll call him Benjamin) had a nifty toy with him before school one day. Then he said “Take squash with us.” (We didn’t cook all of them– two specimens are still intact). I asked, Do you want to bring a squash to school to show it to Benjamin? He nodded yes. This was something of a milestone because up until now, he hasn’t really paid much attention to the other kids in his class, let alone wanting to share a squash with them. (Truthfully, I don’t know if he wanted to share the squash, as in “Isn’t this cool!” or show it off, as in “Nyah nyah, I have a squash and you don’t”). At any rate, Mommy got all choked up. My baby is becoming social!
(Aside: hubby just read a draft of this post and suggested that I play up the “milestone” aspect even more. It was a big, big thing that our little boy wanted to interact – in a positive way - with a kid at school).
So off we went this morning, my son proudly carrying his squash into school. As we walked through the doors, he began calling “Benjamin, Benjamin!” in a sweet, pleading voice. He was just sooo excited about the squash!
And where was Benjamin? With a group of five or six boys, clustered around somebody’s older brother who had brought in …a Nintendo DS.
Splat. No contest.
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Friday, March 5, 2010
Friday, March 6, 2009
Saturday, and Beyond
I bought my first waffle maker in the early 90s. Why did I buy a waffle maker? I'm not all that sure, actually. I think it was because I'd read a recipe for raised waffles (as in, made-with-yeast-waffles, not resurrected waffles) and wanted to try it. In those days, I was the sort of person who bought a kitchen gadget just to make a specific recipe (as in, a youngish person who has not yet overstuffed their kitchen with gadgets).
As I recall, I carefully researched options and decided upon a classic round waffler with nonstick finish. I think I sunk about 50 bucks into that waffler, which was a lot of money back then. Five batches of waffles later, I finally realized that "nonstick finish" does not mean "waffles will not stick." Even though I kept spraying the grids with cooking spray, it still took some time for that sucker to build up what I like to call seasoning or, to be even more euphemistic, patina. I'm still not sure what kept me from carrying out my threat to toss the waffler out the window, but I'm glad that I hung in there. Waffle batter #6 was my lucky batch; we've been waffling ever since. (Note: if you do not currently own a waffle maker and are considering buying one, don't be put off by this story. I'm sure that waffler coating technology has advanced in the last 15 years).
My waffle-making made great technical advances when I discovered the book, "Waffles: From Morning To Midnight" by Dorie Greenspan. Here I learned that, by heating one's oven to ~180 F, already-cooked waffles could be kept warm and waiting. Thus it was possible to make a whole batch and then serve everyone at once, including the waffle slave. This opened up a whole new realm of waffle consumption...for a couple of years, we'd get together every Saturday morning with friends to watch cartoons, drink too much coffee, and take turns making breakfast. (We called it the CAB club for caffeine, animation, and breakfast). When our turn was up we'd often make waffles.
After its CAB heyday, the waffle maker sat idle for a few years. I rediscovered it when my son was ready to start eating solid foods and I wanted to include more whole grains in his Recommended Daily Serving Of Starch. So, I started tinkering around with a couple of recipes from Ms. Greenspan's book. To be honest, though, there wasn't that much tinkering to be done; a couple of her recipes almost fit the bill as-is.
I usually have either buttermilk or plain yogurt in my fridge, so I developed a recipe for each one. (Buttermilk comes in low- and non-fat options; either will work. I usually buy whole milk and whole-milk yogurt but I think you could sub in the low-fat versions). I like a waffle that stands up to its syrup, so both recipes produce a fairly sturdy waffle although the yogurt one is a bit softer. Buttermilk will keep for a couple of weeks in the refrigerator; if you don't want to make waffles again the next weekend, try this recipe for Brown Soda Bread from Bon Appetit to use up the extra.
Each recipe makes 5-7 waffles, depending on how much batter you need for your waffle maker. (Mine takes a little more than 1/2 cup per waffle). Leftover waffles can be frozen in zip-top bags and reheated for quick breakfasts during the week - pop them into the toaster for a few minutes, or microwave them, or wrap them in foil and put them in your diaper bag for an on-the-go toddler snack. (My son eats them, still frozen, straight from the freezer). Waffles make great snacks for toddlers because they don't crumble and make a big mess.
A note about oats: I always have "old-fashioned" rolled oats in the pantry because that's what I use to make granola. (Yes, I do have four different kinds of salt, but I only buy one kind of oats...well actually two because there's the steel-cut oats for oatmeal, but I digress). I soak the oats in milk (or whatever liquid the recipe calls for) just so that there aren't any dry oat bits in the final product. The soaking step is not essential. And, if you have "quick" rolled oats, the soaking isn't necessary. Just don't use "instant" oats. (Actually, I've never tried these recipes with instant oats, so I don't know what would happen - if you do try it, let me know).
And another note about sweeteners: I like to use maple syrup, but you can use honey, sugar, brown sugar...whatever you like. You can even skip the sweetener altogether, as I found out last weekend when I forgot to add the syrup: the waffles still taste pretty OK, especially if you put syrup on top. The vanilla and cinnamon add a hint of sweetness on their own.
Multigrain Buttermilk Waffles
Adapted from “Waffles from Morning to Midnight” by Dorie Greenspan
4 tablespoons butter
1 cup old-fashioned oats (not instant oats)
½ cup all-purpose flour (preferably unbleached)
½ cup whole wheat flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
Pinch of nutmeg
3 tablespoons maple syrup
1½ cups buttermilk
2 large eggs
½ teaspoon vanilla
Optional: 2 medium-size ripe bananas, thickly sliced crosswise or 1 cup blueberries, washed and drained
1. Place the buttermilk in a medium bowl. Add the oats and stir well; set aside for the oats to soak while you prepare the rest of the ingredients. (Letting the oats soften in the buttermilk makes them chewier in the waffles).
2. Preheat the oven to 190 F. Place the oven rack in the upper and lower third of the oven and set a couple of cooling racks on them.
3. Melt the butter in a glass dish in the microwave (about 30 seconds) on in a small pot on the stove.
4. In a large bowl, combine the flours, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon and nutmeg with a whisk.
5. Crack the eggs and add them to the bowl with the oats and buttermilk. Add the maple syrup and vanilla to the same bowl. Use a fork to beat the eggs together, then stir everything in the bowl together.
6. Pour the wet ingredients over the dry ingredients. Use a spatula to mix and fold everything together until it is almost completely mixed. Drizzle the butter over the batter, add the optional fruit, and fold it in.
7. Let the batter rest for a few minutes while you preheat the waffle iron. The batter will puff up and increase in volume; it will become quite thick.
8. Lightly grease the grids on the waffle iron or spray with cooking spray. Scoop out a generous ½ cup of batter onto the waffle iron and use the measuring cup or a spatula to spread the batter over the grid. The batter is very thick; you will probably need ~1/3 more than the manufacturer’s recommended amount of batter for each waffle.
9. As each waffle is cooked, transfer it to the oven rack to keep warm until serving time. This recipe makes a sturdy waffle, but the oven-resting step can help to crisp up a soft waffle.
Multigrain Honey-Yogurt Waffles
Also adapted from “Waffles from Morning to Midnight” by Dorie Greenspan
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup whole-wheat flour
1/2 cup old-fashioned oats
1/2 cup cornmeal
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 1/4 cups milk
3/4 cup plain yogurt
1/3 cup honey
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Proceed as in the above recipe, letting the oats soak in the milk while you prepare the other ingredients.
As I recall, I carefully researched options and decided upon a classic round waffler with nonstick finish. I think I sunk about 50 bucks into that waffler, which was a lot of money back then. Five batches of waffles later, I finally realized that "nonstick finish" does not mean "waffles will not stick." Even though I kept spraying the grids with cooking spray, it still took some time for that sucker to build up what I like to call seasoning or, to be even more euphemistic, patina. I'm still not sure what kept me from carrying out my threat to toss the waffler out the window, but I'm glad that I hung in there. Waffle batter #6 was my lucky batch; we've been waffling ever since. (Note: if you do not currently own a waffle maker and are considering buying one, don't be put off by this story. I'm sure that waffler coating technology has advanced in the last 15 years).
My waffle-making made great technical advances when I discovered the book, "Waffles: From Morning To Midnight" by Dorie Greenspan. Here I learned that, by heating one's oven to ~180 F, already-cooked waffles could be kept warm and waiting. Thus it was possible to make a whole batch and then serve everyone at once, including the waffle slave. This opened up a whole new realm of waffle consumption...for a couple of years, we'd get together every Saturday morning with friends to watch cartoons, drink too much coffee, and take turns making breakfast. (We called it the CAB club for caffeine, animation, and breakfast). When our turn was up we'd often make waffles.
After its CAB heyday, the waffle maker sat idle for a few years. I rediscovered it when my son was ready to start eating solid foods and I wanted to include more whole grains in his Recommended Daily Serving Of Starch. So, I started tinkering around with a couple of recipes from Ms. Greenspan's book. To be honest, though, there wasn't that much tinkering to be done; a couple of her recipes almost fit the bill as-is.
I usually have either buttermilk or plain yogurt in my fridge, so I developed a recipe for each one. (Buttermilk comes in low- and non-fat options; either will work. I usually buy whole milk and whole-milk yogurt but I think you could sub in the low-fat versions). I like a waffle that stands up to its syrup, so both recipes produce a fairly sturdy waffle although the yogurt one is a bit softer. Buttermilk will keep for a couple of weeks in the refrigerator; if you don't want to make waffles again the next weekend, try this recipe for Brown Soda Bread from Bon Appetit to use up the extra.
Each recipe makes 5-7 waffles, depending on how much batter you need for your waffle maker. (Mine takes a little more than 1/2 cup per waffle). Leftover waffles can be frozen in zip-top bags and reheated for quick breakfasts during the week - pop them into the toaster for a few minutes, or microwave them, or wrap them in foil and put them in your diaper bag for an on-the-go toddler snack. (My son eats them, still frozen, straight from the freezer). Waffles make great snacks for toddlers because they don't crumble and make a big mess.
A note about oats: I always have "old-fashioned" rolled oats in the pantry because that's what I use to make granola. (Yes, I do have four different kinds of salt, but I only buy one kind of oats...well actually two because there's the steel-cut oats for oatmeal, but I digress). I soak the oats in milk (or whatever liquid the recipe calls for) just so that there aren't any dry oat bits in the final product. The soaking step is not essential. And, if you have "quick" rolled oats, the soaking isn't necessary. Just don't use "instant" oats. (Actually, I've never tried these recipes with instant oats, so I don't know what would happen - if you do try it, let me know).
And another note about sweeteners: I like to use maple syrup, but you can use honey, sugar, brown sugar...whatever you like. You can even skip the sweetener altogether, as I found out last weekend when I forgot to add the syrup: the waffles still taste pretty OK, especially if you put syrup on top. The vanilla and cinnamon add a hint of sweetness on their own.
Multigrain Buttermilk Waffles
Adapted from “Waffles from Morning to Midnight” by Dorie Greenspan
4 tablespoons butter
1 cup old-fashioned oats (not instant oats)
½ cup all-purpose flour (preferably unbleached)
½ cup whole wheat flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
Pinch of nutmeg
3 tablespoons maple syrup
1½ cups buttermilk
2 large eggs
½ teaspoon vanilla
Optional: 2 medium-size ripe bananas, thickly sliced crosswise or 1 cup blueberries, washed and drained
1. Place the buttermilk in a medium bowl. Add the oats and stir well; set aside for the oats to soak while you prepare the rest of the ingredients. (Letting the oats soften in the buttermilk makes them chewier in the waffles).
2. Preheat the oven to 190 F. Place the oven rack in the upper and lower third of the oven and set a couple of cooling racks on them.
3. Melt the butter in a glass dish in the microwave (about 30 seconds) on in a small pot on the stove.
4. In a large bowl, combine the flours, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon and nutmeg with a whisk.
5. Crack the eggs and add them to the bowl with the oats and buttermilk. Add the maple syrup and vanilla to the same bowl. Use a fork to beat the eggs together, then stir everything in the bowl together.
6. Pour the wet ingredients over the dry ingredients. Use a spatula to mix and fold everything together until it is almost completely mixed. Drizzle the butter over the batter, add the optional fruit, and fold it in.
7. Let the batter rest for a few minutes while you preheat the waffle iron. The batter will puff up and increase in volume; it will become quite thick.
8. Lightly grease the grids on the waffle iron or spray with cooking spray. Scoop out a generous ½ cup of batter onto the waffle iron and use the measuring cup or a spatula to spread the batter over the grid. The batter is very thick; you will probably need ~1/3 more than the manufacturer’s recommended amount of batter for each waffle.
9. As each waffle is cooked, transfer it to the oven rack to keep warm until serving time. This recipe makes a sturdy waffle, but the oven-resting step can help to crisp up a soft waffle.
Multigrain Honey-Yogurt Waffles
Also adapted from “Waffles from Morning to Midnight” by Dorie Greenspan
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup whole-wheat flour
1/2 cup old-fashioned oats
1/2 cup cornmeal
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 1/4 cups milk
3/4 cup plain yogurt
1/3 cup honey
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Proceed as in the above recipe, letting the oats soak in the milk while you prepare the other ingredients.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Go Play With Your Food
My son has never really had a "lovey," some kind of stuffed animal or security blanket, that he carries everywhere. He does like to take various objects with him whenever we go out, though. When he was about a year old, he liked to hang on to a spoon when I took him out in the stroller. Now that he's a big boy (all of 2.75 years) he's broadened his objects of desire to include the occasional toy, but more likely than not he'll be clutching a piece of produce when we walk out the door.
For the last few weeks my son has been fixated on potatoes. Part of it stems from his recent mastery of the concepts involving "one" and "two." It was inevitable, therefore, that when Mommy unpacked the big bag of potatoes from the grocery sack, he immediately begged for me to give him just one potato. (Well, what he actually said was "wah, wah, wah!" but I knew what he meant). Having obtained just one potato, he immediately began lobbying for another.
The two potatoes have been everywhere. They roamed around the house, danced to music, rode along in the car (in the cup holder, of course). They even misbehaved when my son had the brilliant idea of using the potatoes to push things off of the table, when I told him to stop doing that himself. (I then found myself uttering words that I never, ever envisioned myself saying: "Do I have to put that potato in a Time Out?"). One potato even got wrapped up in a cozy foil blanket: I was wrapping burritos to re-warm in the oven and my son cried out for some foil to play with. Wrapping the potato seemed like the thing to do.
A few weeks ago, the foil-wrapped potato came along to a playgroup. We walked into our local Family Network and the nice lady kindly asked, "What've you got there?" when my son proudly brandished his pet. "It's a potato," I replied. "Oh...a baked potato?" was the still-kind, but puzzled response. "No," I sighed, "It's a raw potato. He just wanted to wrap it up in foil." I'm sure the kindly lady put this down as typical, odd toddler behavior, or at least I hope she did.
Another mom's comment has me reconsidering the meaning of my son's love affair with food as playthings. The mom has a young child as well as a job, and mentioned that she'd rather spend time with her son than be tied to the stove. Now granted, since I'm not working an outside job (in addition to being mommy), I probably spend more time cooking than I would otherwise. And, my son is usually playing in the kitchen alongside me while I cook, unless he can't keep to our safety rules and has to be sent to the adjacent playroom for a little while. Nevertheless, he likes to do what mommy is doing, and mommy is in the kitchen an awful lot.
My son also loves to play with a bar of soap - the kind that comes in a box. great entertainment that is, opening the box, taking the soap out and putting it back. My son carries soap everywhere, too, and it's certainly NOT because he sees Mommy cleaning all the time. So maybe, just maybe, it really is typical, odd toddler behavior.
For the last few weeks my son has been fixated on potatoes. Part of it stems from his recent mastery of the concepts involving "one" and "two." It was inevitable, therefore, that when Mommy unpacked the big bag of potatoes from the grocery sack, he immediately begged for me to give him just one potato. (Well, what he actually said was "wah, wah, wah!" but I knew what he meant). Having obtained just one potato, he immediately began lobbying for another.
The two potatoes have been everywhere. They roamed around the house, danced to music, rode along in the car (in the cup holder, of course). They even misbehaved when my son had the brilliant idea of using the potatoes to push things off of the table, when I told him to stop doing that himself. (I then found myself uttering words that I never, ever envisioned myself saying: "Do I have to put that potato in a Time Out?"). One potato even got wrapped up in a cozy foil blanket: I was wrapping burritos to re-warm in the oven and my son cried out for some foil to play with. Wrapping the potato seemed like the thing to do.
A few weeks ago, the foil-wrapped potato came along to a playgroup. We walked into our local Family Network and the nice lady kindly asked, "What've you got there?" when my son proudly brandished his pet. "It's a potato," I replied. "Oh...a baked potato?" was the still-kind, but puzzled response. "No," I sighed, "It's a raw potato. He just wanted to wrap it up in foil." I'm sure the kindly lady put this down as typical, odd toddler behavior, or at least I hope she did.
Another mom's comment has me reconsidering the meaning of my son's love affair with food as playthings. The mom has a young child as well as a job, and mentioned that she'd rather spend time with her son than be tied to the stove. Now granted, since I'm not working an outside job (in addition to being mommy), I probably spend more time cooking than I would otherwise. And, my son is usually playing in the kitchen alongside me while I cook, unless he can't keep to our safety rules and has to be sent to the adjacent playroom for a little while. Nevertheless, he likes to do what mommy is doing, and mommy is in the kitchen an awful lot.
My son also loves to play with a bar of soap - the kind that comes in a box. great entertainment that is, opening the box, taking the soap out and putting it back. My son carries soap everywhere, too, and it's certainly NOT because he sees Mommy cleaning all the time. So maybe, just maybe, it really is typical, odd toddler behavior.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Darn you, W. K. Kellogg!
My son loves fruit. Usually, this is one of those things that I feel incredibly fortunate about; I mean, there are a lot less healthy things out there that my boy could go crazy over, right? Every now and then, however, his fruit obsession causes me problems.
Marketing gurus have apparently decided that plain old cereal in a bowl just doesn’t look appetizing. Thus, there are snazzy photographs of cereal garnished with luscious-looking fruit on the outside of the box. Thanks, Madison Avenue; it has taken me MONTHS to convince my toddler that there really aren’t any raspberries inside that box of Oatios. Even now, he points hopefully to those glistening red jewels at breakfast time, hoping for a miracle. Try explaining what “serving suggestion” means to a toddler.
Enter Special K with Red Berries…I just knew that I could never let my son learn that this box of cereal was different. Any time he requested that cereal, a curious atmospheric phenomenon occurred whereby the aforementioned Red Berries mysteriously stayed behind, while the flakes were transferred to his bowl. (More berries for Mommy, that way). Did I feel guilty for withholding berries from my baby? Well, I might have, except that this child can put away a pint of dried strawberries in nothing flat and then frantically sign for more. Cooking extra meals I might be, but I will NOT pick out berries from a whole box of cereal. We all have our standards. (And it would be very expensive way to buy dried strawberries).
I was content in my duplicity until this morning, when…Daddy let the big red berry out of the bag. It’s my own fault for not including him in my deceit. At least I wasn’t in the room at the time, so I didn’t have to endure seeing the light of wonder in my son’s eyes turn to cruel understanding that Mommy has been lying. Maybe I can airbrush those raspberries off of the Oatios box.
Marketing gurus have apparently decided that plain old cereal in a bowl just doesn’t look appetizing. Thus, there are snazzy photographs of cereal garnished with luscious-looking fruit on the outside of the box. Thanks, Madison Avenue; it has taken me MONTHS to convince my toddler that there really aren’t any raspberries inside that box of Oatios. Even now, he points hopefully to those glistening red jewels at breakfast time, hoping for a miracle. Try explaining what “serving suggestion” means to a toddler.
Enter Special K with Red Berries…I just knew that I could never let my son learn that this box of cereal was different. Any time he requested that cereal, a curious atmospheric phenomenon occurred whereby the aforementioned Red Berries mysteriously stayed behind, while the flakes were transferred to his bowl. (More berries for Mommy, that way). Did I feel guilty for withholding berries from my baby? Well, I might have, except that this child can put away a pint of dried strawberries in nothing flat and then frantically sign for more. Cooking extra meals I might be, but I will NOT pick out berries from a whole box of cereal. We all have our standards. (And it would be very expensive way to buy dried strawberries).
I was content in my duplicity until this morning, when…Daddy let the big red berry out of the bag. It’s my own fault for not including him in my deceit. At least I wasn’t in the room at the time, so I didn’t have to endure seeing the light of wonder in my son’s eyes turn to cruel understanding that Mommy has been lying. Maybe I can airbrush those raspberries off of the Oatios box.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
The Mouths of Babes, Part II
I always swore that I wouldn’t be one of those moms who make separate meals for their kids. My master plan was to introduce a variety of flavors early on, so Junior wouldn’t experience culinary culture shock when he made the leap from baby food to table food. So, I started adding small amounts of curry powder, soy sauce, and other flavorings that I cook with regularly so that he’d get used to the flavors in the food served at our house.
For over a year I’ve been strategizing, cooking, and serving him a healthy, balanced diet that includes a dizzying array of fresh fruit and a decent number of vegetables. Some examples: I use an overnight method to cook organic, steel-cut oats for his breakfast porridge (enhanced with unsweetened applesauce, almond butter, and sometimes ground flaxseeds). While he naps, I cook organic green veggies (broccoli or kale; frozen green beans or Brussels sprouts in a pinch), roast a Butternut squash, or microwave sweet potatoes to use at lunch or dinner, or even as snacks. The freezer is always stocked with kiddie-sized portions of homemade soups, stews, lasagna, muffins, and waffles for meals and snacks when I didn’t have time to cook during the day.
In other words, an embarrassingly large portion of my time is spent to ensure that an overabundance of healthy food is available to serve to my child on a moment’s notice.
In the middle of a cooking frenzy one day, it dawned on me that I was doing the very thing I’d vowed to avoid. I AM making separate meals for my child, but not because he’s a picky eater. The sad truth is that Mommy is a picky eater and she eats, well, poorly. As long as my son will accept it, I’ll keep giving him plain yogurt with tahini and wheat germ. But I’ll also keep sneaking bites of donut when I go into the pantry to get his organic, high-fiber crackers.
Discovering a dirty little secret about oneself is one thing; actually doing something about it is, well - is it necessary to do anything? If I’m making extra meals in the name of health, rather than catering to a picky toddler, it’s okay, right? With the way our schedules run, we don’t really have a family meal at our house, so we have some time before Junior discovers that Mommy and Daddy eat according to different rules. The day of reckoning will come, though, and I suspect that in the end, my boy will join his father (and me) on the Dark Side. Hopefully the positive effects of his current, über-healthy diet will carry on long after he begins to think of Cheetos an orange vegetable.
For over a year I’ve been strategizing, cooking, and serving him a healthy, balanced diet that includes a dizzying array of fresh fruit and a decent number of vegetables. Some examples: I use an overnight method to cook organic, steel-cut oats for his breakfast porridge (enhanced with unsweetened applesauce, almond butter, and sometimes ground flaxseeds). While he naps, I cook organic green veggies (broccoli or kale; frozen green beans or Brussels sprouts in a pinch), roast a Butternut squash, or microwave sweet potatoes to use at lunch or dinner, or even as snacks. The freezer is always stocked with kiddie-sized portions of homemade soups, stews, lasagna, muffins, and waffles for meals and snacks when I didn’t have time to cook during the day.
In other words, an embarrassingly large portion of my time is spent to ensure that an overabundance of healthy food is available to serve to my child on a moment’s notice.
In the middle of a cooking frenzy one day, it dawned on me that I was doing the very thing I’d vowed to avoid. I AM making separate meals for my child, but not because he’s a picky eater. The sad truth is that Mommy is a picky eater and she eats, well, poorly. As long as my son will accept it, I’ll keep giving him plain yogurt with tahini and wheat germ. But I’ll also keep sneaking bites of donut when I go into the pantry to get his organic, high-fiber crackers.
Discovering a dirty little secret about oneself is one thing; actually doing something about it is, well - is it necessary to do anything? If I’m making extra meals in the name of health, rather than catering to a picky toddler, it’s okay, right? With the way our schedules run, we don’t really have a family meal at our house, so we have some time before Junior discovers that Mommy and Daddy eat according to different rules. The day of reckoning will come, though, and I suspect that in the end, my boy will join his father (and me) on the Dark Side. Hopefully the positive effects of his current, über-healthy diet will carry on long after he begins to think of Cheetos an orange vegetable.
The Mouths of Babes
I’d heard that having children changed your life, but I didn’t realize that included my perspective on food. For example: serving sizes. I vaguely recall hearing my friends grumble about the tiny amounts of food that they could coax their children to eat. So, I wasn’t completely surprised to discover that 3/8th of a mini-muffin are more than sufficient to fuel my toddler for an entire morning. What did come as a shock, though, was the reason why: a mini-muffin is much larger than it innocently appears to be.
Don’t believe me? Try this: place half of a mini-muffin on a plate. Cut the half into quarters, then - and this is the key step - use your fingers to carefully squish each piece into crumbs. (It’s a delicate operation. You want to break up the muffin without compressing it. If you can’t master the technique, borrow someone’s toddler and have them do it for you). Magically, the muffin half will grow into an enormous pile of fluffy muffin bits. It’s a huge portion! No wonder our little ones full up so quickly.
Still not convinced? Take the plate into your living room and shake the crumbs all over your couch. Now measure the surface area of the muffin-coated regions and back-calculate to get the total volume of muffin. Or, just trust me when I tell you that those muffin bits will have mysteriously multiplied into a full-sized muffin.
It turns out that the food professionals who write baby food cookbooks are wise to this bit of infant wizardry and have built correction factors into their recipes. I remember thinking that Ruth Yaron (author of “Super Baby Food”) must be nuts for suggesting that my baby would consume ½ to 1 cup of yogurt in a meal (even if he didn’t eat anything else). The actual amount of yogurt that goes down the hatch, however, is on the order of 2 tablespoons, leaving plenty for him to spread around. (And did you all know that it’s possible to cover every surface in your kitchen with less than half a cup of yogurt? More food magic, brought to you by your friendly neighborhood toddler).
For my part, I’m thinking that eating like a toddler just might be the key to a successful diet plan. It takes a lot longer to eat a muffin when you have to hunt down each crumb. If you have a dog you’ll eat even less because you’ll be competing for muffin bits as you search all over the couch. Ah, but the symbiotic feeding habits of dogs and babies is a topic for another post.
Don’t believe me? Try this: place half of a mini-muffin on a plate. Cut the half into quarters, then - and this is the key step - use your fingers to carefully squish each piece into crumbs. (It’s a delicate operation. You want to break up the muffin without compressing it. If you can’t master the technique, borrow someone’s toddler and have them do it for you). Magically, the muffin half will grow into an enormous pile of fluffy muffin bits. It’s a huge portion! No wonder our little ones full up so quickly.
Still not convinced? Take the plate into your living room and shake the crumbs all over your couch. Now measure the surface area of the muffin-coated regions and back-calculate to get the total volume of muffin. Or, just trust me when I tell you that those muffin bits will have mysteriously multiplied into a full-sized muffin.
It turns out that the food professionals who write baby food cookbooks are wise to this bit of infant wizardry and have built correction factors into their recipes. I remember thinking that Ruth Yaron (author of “Super Baby Food”) must be nuts for suggesting that my baby would consume ½ to 1 cup of yogurt in a meal (even if he didn’t eat anything else). The actual amount of yogurt that goes down the hatch, however, is on the order of 2 tablespoons, leaving plenty for him to spread around. (And did you all know that it’s possible to cover every surface in your kitchen with less than half a cup of yogurt? More food magic, brought to you by your friendly neighborhood toddler).
For my part, I’m thinking that eating like a toddler just might be the key to a successful diet plan. It takes a lot longer to eat a muffin when you have to hunt down each crumb. If you have a dog you’ll eat even less because you’ll be competing for muffin bits as you search all over the couch. Ah, but the symbiotic feeding habits of dogs and babies is a topic for another post.
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