Our girls are not picky eaters. They do, however, have discerning palates.
This is particularly true of Prima, who at the age of 5, while being babysat by friends, replied “shu-shi” when asked what her favorite food was. (They were anticipating a response more along the lines of “pizza” or “ice cream,” I think.)
As a baby, Secondo used to sit in front of a high chair tray full of black beans, avocado and cherry tomatoes cut into halves and quarters. I can still see her chubby little fingers chasing black beans around the tray and shoving them heartily into her bonny little mouth.
At age 6, Prima licked her lips and dubbed our easy homemade chili recipe, “Chili dot com” [“I love when we have chili-dot-com!” she announced, tomato cheeked.] I don’t know where it came from or how she created it, but I immediately fell in love with the moniker and her ingenious way of putting language together.
In a tribute to my mother, who began to wind down her day raising four small children when she poured her evening cup of tea, they both enjoy and drink tea. When Prima is sick, she asks for Britain’s favorite beverage.
For the majority of her life, Secondo has preferred her milk warmed one minute in the microwave. If you pour too little in the cup or only go 45 seconds, she’ll know. Not even worth trying.
Over the years, as they have gotten older, their palates have expanded and contracted. They’ve settle in on some favorites.
Secondo’s major food group is cheese. Cheese crisp, mac and cheese (she prefers Annie’s Organic and not the blue box stuff), girled (not a spelling error) cheese, cheese quesadilla and – the holy grail of her dairy obsession – cheesesticks.
That should be two words but in our household it’s ubiquitous, so it is one.
Cheesesticks are serious business around here.
One brand does not suit all.
Prima prefers the Frigo variety (she lampooned an empty Frigo cheesestick package to our refrigerator as a reminder of what type to buy). And mozzarella only. Once in awhile, she likes to venture out to into sharp cheddar rectangles – but only Sargento, thank you very much. And never, never, ever, ever send a cheesestick in her lunch, even if you pack dry ice to maintain temperature. Without fail it will come back a greasy, flaccid half-melted mess of rejection, and the flustered admonishment, “Moooom, I DON’T like cheesesticks in my lunch.”
None of this is suitable for Secondo’s tastes, however, who prefers Precious cheesesticks – “the ones with the guy on the skateboard on the front.” Bingo. Never yellow nor pepper jack nor provolone nor anything other than mozzarella. Packing them in her lunch is A-OK, however. She’ll eat them here or there or everywhere. Really. I’ve found them half-eaten stuffed between couch cushions or under beds, on bathroom counters and dried up in the playroom – a little dairy trail of her day’s activities.
Despite the annoyance of making an extra stop at another grocery store (of course my local does not carry both types of preferred cheesesticks — welcome to Mommy hell), their preferences please me.
They’ve always been the kind of kids to find something on nearly any menu to enjoy. They’re not limited to hot dogs or nuggets. They eat Japanese, Italian, Thai, Chinese, Mexican (Prima has taken up Mr. Bailey’s Cholula obsession), Middle Eastern with regularity. They like salad. They love clementines and apples and berries. When I bring oranges for soccer game half time, they are genuinely excited.
Of course, left to their own devices, they would eat pizza with sides of breadsticks six nights a week and candy for breakfast each morning, but with a spoonful of our guidance, we’re getting them somewhere tasty, cheesesticks in hand. Dot com.