With four children, I was bound to have at least one who was a picky eater – and that, of course, manifested itself early on.
When the kids were young, I diligently created weekly meal plans that included a wide variety of foods that not only provided nutrition, but hopefully helped expand their food likes (and, meals that Mom and Dad would eat as well). Generally it was a success, except for that one child. Of course, each had their own likes and dislikes when it came to food — something I could deal with (I’m not a fish fan), but the daily struggle of dealing with the “I don’t like that” or “ I’m not eating that” was real — and constant . . . every single day. Through it all, I persevered and refused to automatically prepare a second meal for my picky eater, just so I could have some peace during family mealtime.
She didn’t like beans, momentarily turned away from meat (as she would chew it for ages, and then spit it out), anything with vegetables (except corn), all cheese (except mozzarella), and the list goes on.
When the kids were young, they created their own little dinnertime game — It was based on overall ‘score’ of how many different types of food each of them liked. They measured one ’s level of liking a specific food simply by raising or lowering their hand in the air. The higher the hand and went up, the more they likes a food and their rating in the game went up.
My son worked hard at maintaining his superiority in this game (i.e. to like more foods than his sisters), that he would often turn to lying about it. But, we all quickly learned that when challenging him to prove he really liked a new food (by eating it), his nostrils would flare if he just didn’t like it. If he said, “I love this food,” yet his nostrils flared while eating said item, we knew that indicated that he was not telling the truth.
On the other hand, Miss Picky Eater wouldn’t even participate in the game, as she knew that she just wouldn’t win unless mealtime consisted of bread, crackers, strawberries, or that one recipe I first made when the kids were young, young Parmigiano Crusted Rigatoni. This recipe turned out to be her favorite.
She was a little girl when it became her favorite. She called it Tigaroni, as Rigatoni seemed a bit hard for her to pronounce at the time. Everyone in our family still calls it Tigaroni. And, Everyone in our family still requests it — yet, when it is served all these years later, it is still referred to as ‘her favorite’. She loved it so much that when her first grade class created a cookbook, Tigaroni was her submission, which also included her own drawing of herself in the kitchen making Tigaroni, which also appeared on the cover of the class cookbook.
That little girl is now a freshman in college, and was home for Spring Break this past week. It was a busy week for all of us, so it wasn’t until she had been home for a few days when she asked me, “Mom, do you think you can make Tigaroni for dinner this week before I go back to school?”
I immediately answered in the affirmative. Adding “Is there anything else you would like?’ (knowing that I only had a few more days with her home).
Maintaining Traditions with Teens
The night before she was to return to school, we gathered around the table for Tigaroni. No complaints and clean plates confirmed that this continues to be a picky-eater favorite. Following our Friday night dinner of Tigaroni, we continued to enjoy our Easter tradition of coloring eggs and frosting some Easter cookies. The next day, I hid their Easter baskets so the three at-home Everage kids could continue the family’s Easter traditions — followed by an egg hunt.
She’s now back at school, Spring semester at UCLA, and we are back to the day- to-day of the at-home Everage family. Our son will return mid-May from University of Miami, and Miss Picky Eater will find her way back home late June. Until then, when Tigaroni makes it way to our dinner table, we will definitely think of her.
The takeaway from a week with my former picky eater is that persistence pays off. Sure, beans are still not her favorite, but she has expanded her food repertoire and dinnertime is a bit less anxiety filled as it was when she was young.
The other, perhaps more important to me is that no matter how old they are, the traditions we established when they were young remain today — years later. That make my heart sing.
