The Littlest Food Snob

Yes, that little tortilla connoisseur is my son.  Unfortunately, for a 9-month old, he seems to have developed champagne tastes. I wouldn’t classify him as a “picky eater” because actually he eats just about everything…as long as it tastes good.

But let me back up a little.

I make about half of his food.  The other half I purchase.  He has his formula*, and I feed him some sort of mixed hippie grain cereal (spelt? amaranth?  I myself have never even tasted such exotic carbs) along with jarred veggies and fruits.  However it is far more economical to make his baby food myself, and I found that I even enjoy it.  I dedicated Sundays as my day to produce baby food, and threw myself into it because I am a depressive, artistic soul working in the tech industry and once I convinced myself that making baby food was a creative outlet it was all I wanted to do on my weekends. I began seasoning his pumpkin puree with cinnamon, and from there it was a slippery slope that eventually led to me fire-roasting red peppers for him and giving him puree of cauliflower boiled in homemade chicken broth with sage and black pepper.  He eats it all with gusto, gently waving his plump little arms with delight at each bite.

Two weeks ago, however, I noticed that he was starting to reject the jarred baby food in favor of the home cooked meals.  Glowing with pride and self-satisfaction I cooked even more, and then smugly bragged about it to other mothers. Then last week, my first week back at work, I threw a few boiled turnips through the blender, unseasoned (usually I give them a little pepper) because I was exhausted and emotionally spent.  He spat them out.  I gave him some plain white rice (threw it off his high chair tray) and some sweet potato puree from sweet potatoes that had been boiled instead of roasted (cried after each bite).  He accepted some home made yogurt, as long as I mixed it with a little pumpkin-cinnimon-ginger puree.

God help me.  As soon as he is old enough to talk I know he will start sending his dinners back to the kitchen because they are not adequately heated, or perhaps because the chef didn’t use enough flair with the sauce, or because the meat was not tender enough.  He’ll sniff the cap of his apple juice and wave it off as being “one-dimensional and too young”.

For anyone who is interested in the food combinations I’ve been giving him, I’ll post them as soon as I get some good photos.  For now I am trying to figure out how to get him to be satisfied with meat and potatoes.

*Although I wish I could have continued, I had to quit breastfeeding because of several months of antibiotics and steriods prescribed to try and contain my completely out of control and debilitating eczema, a topic that is still so upsetting that I haven’t been able to bring myself to write about it yet.  Don’t worry, La Leche Leaguers, I will give a full account for this transgression eventually.

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