Mothership Meals and Satellite Saucers: Fish Fry

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Fish Fry

Oh my god, my daughter is eating fish. She is four years old. I'm going to say that again: she is four years old and she eats fish. I am just about ready to go shout it from the mountaintops.

I do personally know a five-year-old who is a vegetarian and has been eating fish for years, so I realize that this is not considered a huge accomplishment or brilliant talent in every household. But in mine: yes.

Six months ago, I would have had to hold my children down and pry their mouths open to get them to even taste fish. They felt about it the way you or I would feel about "just a taste" of a worm saute. It was that repellant to them.

But in the last few weeks, as I've been mentioning, they've been coming out of their crazy food psychosis. I've pressed a taste on them here and there of this and that, including fish, and they've taken it. Now it's pretty standard, that they taste everything. This alone is a huge step forward.

So a couple weeks ago my daughter had a taste of fish... and wanted more, but it was all gone. Over the next few days it became an obsession. "I want more fish." "When can we have fish again?" "Are we having fish tonight?" "I love fish, and we NEVER have it." (Why would I think that just because it's about fish that it would be any different than it is about everything else?)

I finally got fish again, tilapia. I dredged it in flour, a big pinch of salt and paprika, and fried it in butter, the way my grandfather used to when we would go fly fishing at his house in North Carolina. (He actually kept a pan and hibachi grill in the shed down by his trout pond for quick meals.)

I served it as fish tacos, because my son loves tacos with cheese and guacamole. This way, everyone would be happy.

And everyone was. Except that I had to stop her from eating all the fish. Seriously. I made her stop eating fish. I made her stop eating fish. What golden words are these tumbling forth from my charmed finger tips?

Now all she wants is fish and she keeps chowing down.

My son, not so much. But I feel thrilled and satisfied. Our meals are so calm. Everyone eats something. It really works, just continuing to eat real food in front of your kids, breaking down the meals when you have to, pushing when you can, accepting when they won't. It works. It works. I'm going to go cry now.

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The Mothership Method

(Or, how to sit down for dinner with your family without completely losing your mind)

It would be great if kids AND parents wanted boiled chicken and baby carrots every night for dinner. But, too bad, we picky parents want spicy, exotic, fun foods, and our kids want, well, sorta lame foods.
Here's the solution: break it down. Serve the dish deconstructed, and let everyone put their own dish together at the table. Sort of like tapas, or smorgasbord, or tacos. Or how in some parts of China you get a bowl of rice, and everything else is in the middle of the table and you take what you want for your own little bowl of rice. That way everyone gets to eat what they want, parents don't have to nag their kids, and kids get to feels some ownership over their meals. Plus, kids get exposed to the look and taste of the foods you hope they will one day love. But it's not just tacos. You'll be amazed at what can be served with the Mothership Method.

Ten Tips to Get Through Dinner Without Having A Nervous Breakdown

1. Accept That Kids Are Picky. No need to freak out on your cooking ability, or look at your kids like there is something wrong with them. It's called "neo-phobia", and it's just how they are, especially from ages 3-6.

2. Serve Meals Broken Down. Even grown-up meals like coconut curry or linguine with clams can be served in their elements, making them more appealing to kids. Grown ups can assemble their own jumble of deliciousness at their own plate while kids take on the pared-down elements.

3. Push if it Works, But Don't Nag If It Doesn't. Some kids are okay with being expected to taste everything on their plate. Others aren't. I think it's okay to push kids -- but not if you're turning dinner into a battlefield.

4. Suggest a Smell. Smelling a new food is easier than tasting it, and can sometimes provide a kid with the information needed to take that scary first bite. But don't confine smelling to new foods. Smell favorites, too, and help them develop their sense of smell by making a game out of it.

5. Don't Ask "Do You Like It?" Instead, try, "What does this remind you of?" or, "Would your cousins like this?" or, "Does this taste salty or sweet?". Asking if they like it or not gives kids too much power and ends the conversation. Besides, we don't care if they like it! We just want them to keep tasting it until it is familiar.

6. Don't Get Frustrated. Imagine being in Taiwan, or Nairobi, or Rome for the first time. Would you eat everything on the local menu? New foods are scary and gross. Our kids need time to learn about the foods that we eat.

7. No SubstitutionsThis is family dinner, not a diner. You, in all your wisdom, have provided foods that are healthy and delicious and appropriate for your children. There is something on the table for them to eat. Period.

8. No Snacks Before Dinner. This can be the hardest with our hectic schedules and hungry kids. But children who come to the table hungry are more likely to eat than cause trouble.

9. Put Peer Pressure To Your Advantage. School children are more likely to accept new foods if the alpha girls in their group accept them. Swap healthy food ideas on playdates.

10. Involve Your Kids In Cooking, Shopping, and Gardening. The more experience kids have handling and preparing a variety of foods, the more likely they are to eventually accept the foods. (But don't get upset if they help you make a complicated wonderful meal, and then refuse to eat it.)