That is deh-custing!

Last week I was again reminded that my son has a refined palate. I'm not sure how such a small child developed such advanced taste buds, but I do know when it all started. From the moment the doctor first gave me the okay to feed the little man solids, he began discerning between crap and deliciousness. I thought he would enjoy the colorful purees that I brought home from the market in their neat little containers, but he turned his head from them. He instead preferred his food freshly cooked and mashed. He did eat the packaged purees occasionally and I kept trying to expand what he would eat.
As a toddler, I distinctly remember an incident at Grandma and Grandpa's where the little man grabbed a tortilla chip from my hand and scooped himself some fresh salsa and didn't even flinch at the heat it gave off. He then double dipped the chip into a tasty guacamole Grandpa had prepared. Delicious, his face read, because he had yet to begin speaking in words. And on another occasion when he was around two, he gobbled down half of my grilled salmon and polished off most of my wild rice as well.
The closest I had gotten him to kid foods he liked was chocolate chip bagels with crunchy peanut butter and sliced banana and the occasional hot dog without the bun. I think he might have eaten mac and cheese once or twice but I don't really remember it ever being a staple. And I know he never wanted a veggie from a can. Before I could figure out what had happened, his repertoire of easy to prepare foods had dwindled down to bacon and scrambled eggs. The kid didn't want easy kid foods that were flavorless. He wanted good food!

You see, "kid" foods were not designed because they are more nutritious. They were created to make the life of a stay at home mom easier. This is of course, my own theory. Mac and cheese, chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs, PB & Js. These are the foods kids demand and moms willingly give them. But my son, prefers them not. I partially blame my family. I was not raised on standard American fare so I really have no clue how to cook it. I remember it was Mexican food or we ate out. And now my family continues to eat out. So every time we visit them, my tiny terrorist eats out with us. And we visit a lot. (Hey, I like good food too.)
He has been raised on brie, fig chutney, and rosemary crackers. He has never been known to turn down a bite of a lobster quesadilla and he will always have second helpings should there be any aged cheeses being served. I've seen him devour fried calamari, hummus on crusty bread, tortilla soup and tomato bisque. And he always likes his steak the way it should be eaten, medium rare. I mean, I'm surprised the little guy's not choosing the wine to pair with dinner when we eat out, really.
I know what some have said. Spoiled. Picky eater. Give him whatever you are eating and don't let him make you his short order cook. Well, maybe that's also part of the problem. We eat at home most of the time. But I can't stand packaged meals or most premade ingredients so we eat ribs, steaks, any kind of seafood we can find fresh enough, and lots of roasted chicken. He knows what good food tastes like and he knows how it should smell too.
Which brings us to last week. You see, my husband is not impartial to really good food. He will eat just about anything and he especially likes food that is quick and easy to make. Foods that only require two or three steps to throw together. Foods, that I can't even stand to see in my cupboards. Foods, like Hamburger Helper.
The little man also detests the strange food that comes in that box. My husband had made himself a whole pan full of hamburger helper while the little guy and I were watching a movie in the living room. Within minutes the foul smell was assaulting my olfactory system and apparently the little man's as well. He plugged his nose with his fingers and shouted into the kitchen, "Dad what are you eating? That is deh-custing!!"("disgusting" in little man speak) We laughed to each other and continued to watch our movie. I think I will continue to nurture his love of real food. Maybe he'll be the winner of Top Chef someday or be a restauranteur. Who knows. But at least he'll never demand I make him anything that I myself would rather not eat. And that's just fine with me.