When Lilly first started getting a grip on solid food, she’d hoover down just about anything. Pasta bake? You betcha. Mash and vegies? More please. Thai green curry and pad thai noodles? Where have you been all my life? It made sense to gladly abandon all of the frozen ice cube trays of mushy pumpkin, spinach, and ricotta, and just feed her a chopped up version of what the Boofhead and I were eating.
But as we’ve edged towards the terrible two’s, slowly but surely, Lil’s palate has narrowed. We seem to be eating the same meal, every night, and it’s beginning to get to me. Creamy pasta? Bugger off Mum. Cherry tomato, cheese cubes, and crunchy carrot spears? Surely you must be kidding.
The only way we can get anything green and remotely healthy down her throat is to hide it in mashed potato. Don’t get me wrong, I love mashed potato. I use a decent spoonful of reduced fat cream cheese and milk, it doesn’t even really need any salt that way, so it isn’t ridiculously unhealthy. My mashed potato is art on a plate.
Well, that's how I used to feel about mashed potato. These days it makes me want to gag. Or throw a saucepan through the kitchen window. Either way, it isn’t good, and I’m over it. Standing at the kitchen bench peeling those potatoes has such a soul-crushing Ground-Hog-Day feel to it for someone who loves food as much as I do. I used to revel in the comfort of a nice chicken schnitzel with mash and vegies, but we eat it so often now that its lustre has well and truly faded.
My dilemma is that if I cook to make Lil happy, I cook the same thing every night. If I force some variety into the mix, she won’t eat, and dinner ends up a stressful test of patience. I’ve toyed with the idea of her living on pizza Shapes and sultanas, but that may just ensure that she grows out and not up.
What happens at dinner time in your house? Do you have any suggestions for me? Or just commiserations?
I'm returning to the land of the living and flogging my blog over at Lori's place today. Come join in!