In the post before this one, I mentioned cooking a meal that yields not complaints being a feat of some sort. I suppose I should have prefaced that by saying that I am not a bad cook, I just have two picky kids, one in particular.
I've discovered that Julia, despite her troubles early on with food, will pretty much eat, or at least try anything that is put in front of her. She is a big meat eater, even if she does call every type of meat chicken. She always seems to want seconds when it comes to steak especially. Other than that, she really likes corn, and LOVES broccoli. It was kind of funny, when she was first learning the names of foods, she would identify them by their color ("Can I have some more green?" when referring to peas for example).
Emily is not too bad as far as being picky about what she eats, but she has definite dislikes, such as corn (unless it's on the cob) and peas. She prefers beef over poultry, but would probably prefer pork above all else.
Katherine? Last week she LOVED mashed potatoes. This week...she might just die if she has to eat them. "Carrots are my favorite vegetable Mom" turns in to, "I used to like these, but now I don't." Getting her to try something new is akin to asking her to cut her arm off, and enjoy it at that.
So tonight, when I made chicken quesadillas, oddly for the first time ever, and all parties involved were happy, I contemplated making them every night. Of course, making them every night would completely kill their appeal. It was nice to have a meal that involved no complaining though.
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