THURSDAY THOUGHTS: TASTES

My littlest nephew announced yesterday that he was a picky eater--"very picky" he emphasized. 

I told him I knew that already. 

I reminded him of the time I made a banana, strawberry and kale smoothie. He tasted the banana immediately. "Nessa! I thought you knew I don't like bananas!" 

I was shocked. What kid, other than a younger me, hated bananas?  

"It's okay. You like what you like.",

I told him.

 

There would be no battle of wills; no "clean your plate" lectures, or punishment for being human and having a preference. 

He wanted to reassure me that I was perfectly within my rights to like what I liked, too, and I shouldn't be offended if our tastes differed. "What do you like, Nessa? I know! You like popcorn! I do, too!" 

I'm so glad he's continuing the family tradition.

I suggested we make a list of his favorites. I wanted to know what he really enjoyed other than bacon, french fries, and pepperoni pizza. 

I didn't want to waste time offering him things he wouldn't eat.

I'd picked him up early from school. He was coughing, and not feeling too well. Just like any old-schooler, I thought he needed soup, ginger ale, and some kind of elixir with "tussin" in its name. 

I figured I'd better ask first if he even liked chicken noodle soup. When he said "yes", I was probably more excited than I should have been. 

I opened a can of my favorite, Progresso and heated it up. 

(Had it been for me, I would have added garlic, peppers and onions, celery, butter, black pepper, and a few tablespoons of evaporated milk. Once it came to a rolling boil, I'd toss in some broccoli florets.)

 

I placed the bowl in front of him. He tasted it,and wasn't feeling it at all. He very politely thanked me for my effort. 

"But Progresso is the bomb! It tastes just like the chicken noodle soup at J. Alexander's!", I protested. 

He didn't care. 

He told me he would try to eat the broth, but to him, Progresso wasn't as good as Mario Brothers. 

I thought he was referring to some restaurant, or a gourmet soup his parents picked up at a health food store, until I realized he was talking about Super Mario Brothers, of television and video gaming fame. The Campbell's brand, I've learned, has a line of "healthy kids" condensed soups, based on the popular characters.

 

He finished the broth, and told me he'd had enough.

Times really have changed. 

I wish I would have told any adult that I didn't want, or like what was on the plate in front of me. It just didn't happen. 

However, I also remember sitting for hours at the kitchen table, crying, and staring hatefully at oatmeal until it became a Frisbee, and that wasn't cool. I would not be traumatizing my nephew.

I remember vowing that when I grew up, I'd never eat oatmeal again.

I'm pretty sure I possess the world record for the most oatmeal flushed down a toilet, or wrapped in gobs of napkins, and stuffed into a trash can. My intense hatred of it, cabbage, bananas, lamb, peanut butter, pineapple, strawberries, and yogurt only subsided when I became an adult, and realized the benefits outweighed the taste, and the taste wasn't so bad. I could stomach them after all!

My nephew hasn't embraced the "It's good for me, so I'll eat it" philosophy yet, and I totally understand not wanting to eat something I simply don't like. He knows what he favors--and the faces he makes after agreeing to at least try a thing, are hilarious.

I knew he wouldn't want any of the butter beans, rice, gravy and chicken breast I'd prepared for my Dad, so we stopped at McDonald's on the way home from his school. I'd destroyed his chicken nuggets by putting them in the microwave once before, (and they weren't even in there long) so I couldn't blame him for being cautious. 

The stop at McDonald's wasn't a total loss. He loves the strawberry and mango smoothies and of course, the fries. (I still think there's something mystical about those fries that makes all kids love them.) Sipping on the smoothie was actually soothing his cough. 

As he sipped, he wasted no time reminding me about the danger a microwave is to a chicken nugget. I was sure he'd be hungry later, so I needed to know what I could prepare that he would actually eat. I was on the verge of phoning Domino's.

"Let's make that list. I want a list. What else do you like", I asked. 

He rattled off chicken tenders ("Don't microwave them, either. It will ruin them, and make them hard to eat. You'll have to look for the smushy part.", he said), 

chocolate chip cookies (soft or hard), 

Lay's potato chips, 

Doritos (the ones in the blue bag), and chocolate ice cream. 

I told him he had a lot of snack foods on the list. 

He continued with rice, Coca Cola, Pepsi, ginger ale, Sprite, root beer, Hi C, fruit punch flavored Capri Sun, lemonade (We mimicked the Geico commercial featuring Ice-T for a while. He loves that ad.), peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Popeye's chicken, red beans and rice, black-eyed peas, and black beans.

I asked if there was anything else. "Oh. Senzu beans. I like Senzu beans." 

"Senzu beans? How do you spell that?" 

I was excited again. "He likes something!" 

I was going to make sure I kept some Senzu beans on hand just in case he stopped by. 

I searched to see what Senzu beans were, since he told me they were a "healing bean". 

He said it with so much authority. I was impressed that a nine year-old was in tune to what foods were "healing", considering how worried I was when he hadn't mentioned food food for the list.

My google search showed me what senzu beans were--"the magical beans that save lives". 

I should have known Dragon Ball Z was involved. 

My nephew has been extremely faithful to animated characters all of his young life. 

He started with Thomas the Tank Engine and ALL of his friends, and then graduated to Sonic the Hedgehog, and all of his friends. 

(On a road trip with his mom, he saw a Sonic sign, and insisted my sister find the restaurant. The detour took them a long way off I-95, but she said it was worth it to see the joy on his face.)

These days, it's all about Goku, and it's affecting his diet in a good way. 

Those health-restoring senzus bear a striking resemblance to lima beans.