
Time to debunk a few myths for those of us raising choosy chowhounds. It’s not your fault. Except when it is. I’ll explain below. Also, it’s not a problem. Unless, of course, you decide it is. More on that later too.
I don’t mean to be cryptic or glib about something that many parents — including moi — have grappled with over the years. If you’re concerned that your kid’s food fussiness is affecting his growth and development, then of course consult his pediatrician.
And believe me, I do understand just how challenging it is to feed a child who has, ah, definite ideas about what he’s going to eat. And, yes, those stories about smug celebrity chefs whose offspring eat oysters and offal make me want to tear my hair out too.
It’s just my boy is 11 now, I can see the light at the end of the “plain tofu please, Mummy” tunnel, and he’s a healthy, strapping lad who loves wholesome food, even though he is still particular about what and how he eats. (Strictly veg. Mostly raw. Preferably not touching. About five regular protein sources.) So be it.
But don’t just take my word for it. What follows, sound advice about raising a fussy eater — all gleaned from foodie fathers. I don’t know what to make of that, if anything, other than to say: Thanks, Dads.
Ethical epicurean Michael Pollan‘s teenage son Isaac is mostly over the selective slurping stage — which tends to peak in the toddler and preschool period — but he would only eat white food for many years, according to an intriguing recent interview with writer David Beers.
We’re talking bread, pasta, rice, and potatoes. (Interestingly, Isaac would only wear black clothes back then as well, his dad reports.) That’s right: Ate white, and dressed black. Pollan, puzzled by his son’s behavior, finally figured out that in both cases his boy was trying to reduce sensory input. The kid clearly had some trouble processing stuff, including the sight, taste, feel, and smell of food, so he tried to make it as bland and inoffensive as possible.
I could prattle on about my own experience with a son who has super sensitive sensory receptors but let me just add: This makes total sense to me. Trying to manage sensory stimulation when you’re an overly sensitive soul is simply a survival skill.
Pollan’s son seems to have found a way to handle sensory input and enjoys cooking. He’s even a bit of of a food snob (those sensitive sensory organs at work, no doubt). My son’s the same: He’ll taste a sauce and is usually spot on in his assessment of whether it needs a drizzle of lemon juice, a splash of sesame oil, or a tad more garlic.
Chances are then, if your wee one seems sensory sensitive, he may actually outgrow his food finickiness as he becomes more adept at managing sensory input.
What to do in the meantime? As nutritionist Ellyn Satter has wisely advised for years: A parent’s job is to put the food on the table — period. It’s the kid’s job whether and how much to eat. End of story. Now, if we parents could all just follow that sage advice…
Pollan isn’t the only papa with a particular eater. Seattle food writer Matthew Amster-Burton devotes an entire chapter to the phenomenon in his recent book Hungry Monkey: A Food-Loving Father’s Quest to Raise an Adventurous Eater. Early on his daughter Iris packed away pad Thai and spicy enchiladas, spinach and Brussels sprouts and Amster-Burton amusingly figured it was because of his impeccable culinary skills and no-compromise approach to child feeding.
Well, every seasoned parent knows how that one turned out. Iris developed strong opinions about what she’d eat, her dad’s preference for spicy food, be damned.
Amster-Burton didn’t freak out about his daughter’s about face. But he was curious to find out what it might mean for her health. Not much, it turns out.
Here’s what he discovered in the course of working on his book: Researchers at the University of Tennessee reviewed the eating habits of 70 kids from ages two to seven, who were divided into two groups: picky and non-picky. They found, as their parents indicated, that finicky eaters ate a smaller variety of food and were afraid to try new foods (called food neophobia in the scientific lingo) than the children who’d chow down on anything. No surprises so far.
But here’s the kicker: A nutritional analysis revealed that the selective slurpers got just as many nutrients as the kids who gobbled everything put in front of them and there was no difference in height and weight between the two groups, according to the study findings reported in the Journal of the American College of Nutrition.
So, then, picky eating may be frustrating but it’s not a medical problem, in the vast majority of cases. Amster-Burton checked with another source — his mom — and discovered that for, oh, about seven years all he’d eat was Cheerios, mac & cheese, pizza, white chicken meat if it didn’t touch anything else, and PB&Js.
Amster-Burton isn’t the first parent to pass on his picky palate. Yes, folks, that’s right: Your child may well inherit his food fussiness and fear of new food from you. A 2007 study published in The American Journal of Clinical Nutrition found that a child’s aversion to unfamiliar foods has a compelling genetic component. Investigators analyzed the eating habits of 5, 390 pairs of twins between 8 and 11 years old and found that in 78 percent of cases the picky palates were inherited. Guilty as charged in this corner. My son’s selective ways are probably some cosmic payback for all those Sundays when I boiled an egg while the rest of my clan tucked into burgers.
Amster-Burton acknowledges that having a finicky eater on board can be tiresome when you’re trying to put a meal on the table that everyone in the family wants to eat. Rather than “hide” unfavorite foods (a controversial practice that’s received a lot of attention of late), make two meals, or sign up for a nightly food fight, he looks for way to satisfy his taste buds and his kid’s. Hot sauce helps.
I learned with my raw food aficionado to simply, duh, set aside some uncooked veggies I was chopping up anyway for a stir-fry or pasta dish. In addition, the adults of a picky eater need to become more adventurous themselves, Amster-Burton suggests, and in doing so may stumble on something new their child likes to eat. He discovered his daughter loves sukiyaki, a Japanese beef-noodle-and vegetable dish, so that’s now part of his family’s dinner-time repertoire.
Hugh Garvey, an editor at Bon Appetit magazine, has a son Desmond, 5, who is primarily a brownivore and nearly a full-time greenophobe, says the co-author of the just published Gastrokid: Feeding a Foodie Family in a Fast-Food World. Garvey’s family serves as something of a petri dish: His daughter Violet, 8, eats it all, thus debunking the myth that “bad” parenting produces picky eaters. In fairness to Garvey’s little guy, he currently consumes anchovies, octopus, and bison; in many circles that would earn him adventurous eater cred right there.
Not surprisingly, Garvey’s all for doing away with the picky eater label. And he’s pretty philosophical about the situation with his son. “We don’t cater to his druthers as much as we used to and we keep trying,” he writes. Seasoning can work wonders — Garvey’s book features several recipes with smoked Spanish paprika — and he recommends that an ingredient shouldn’t be placed on the no-go list (and then only temporarily) until it’s been offered in a variety of ways, whether steamed, pureed, roasted, sauteed, or julienned — or, might I suggest, completely raw and unadorned.
Garvey offers this succinct assessment of eating with kids: “The only inevitable at the family table is surprise.” That strikes me as a pretty healthy attitude to this whole predicament. What say you?