If Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus then one of my sons is from McDonald’s and the other from some Haute Cuisine Parisian Restaurant. When they were small they both tucked, unwittingly into corn on the cob, broccoli and even okra. Both liked the same things, we all ate the same meal and life was easy. The eldest, who shall be called Number 1, didn’t go to a crèche until he was three, Number 2 was almost two. That day was the beginning of the ruination of their taste buds. Lunch was often processed foods or at best tiny portions of some impersonation of pasta Bolognese. Slowly but surely vegetables were shunned in favour of tinned spaghetti hoops and chicken nuggets. Evening meals started to get annoying as both boys ate less and less of not only the good stuff, but they wouldn’t even eat the same things any more. No. 1 would have pasta with sauce, No. 2 just the pasta. No. 1 would have the egg, No. 2 just the white. It has now reached epic annoyance for me as the repertoire of No. 2 is whittled down more and more until it’s beginning to resemble just toast. No. 1 is my dream eater on the other hand; a mini Michael Winner he has always loved smoked salmon, blue cheese, olives and has tried more shell fish that you can shake a fishing-rod at.
No. 1 usually gets the dinners he likes while the other fella feeds on plain rice or pasta. I’ve heard you shouldn’t make a fuss of fussy eaters, the more attention they get the more they fuss, or so I’ve heard. So my tack is to make only what he likes, as we all like those dinners too; roasts, chicken casserole, shepherd’s pie, chops, chicken noodle soup, mash with gravy, mince stew ( intrigued?). I figure if he gets into the habit of eating up everything all the time then he might figure all meals are his favourites, maybe I’m living in a fool’s hell but here goes.
Those great butchers, Hicks from Dun Laoghaire