Every once in a while our bambinos do or say something that reminds me of the foodie life they are living. Braydon and I aren’t serious foodies by any stretch of the imagination (been there, done that, before kids). But we are probably more ‘foodie’ than most. And our kids do show it– they have pretty exceptionally experienced palates, they have a lot of exposure to all sorts of foods on all sorts of spectrum’s, and they would probably be considered by most (although surely not all) to be real-deal Foodie Kids. Not serious, serious, serious Foodie Kids, but… Foodie Kids nonetheless. I never want them to think they are “above” McNuggets or to snub a dinner of hot dogs and beans. But I’m also pretty pleased (and get quite a kick out of it) that they understand the importance of good grill marks on meat, that they have a basic working knowledge of the major ethnic foods most popular in the U.S. (Chinese, Japanese, Thai, Indian, Mexican, etc.), and that they know the difference between penne and linguine, parmesan and provolone, and olive oil vs. canola oil. And I must admit that I’m downright delighted when I see Meera chow down on a caesar salad at age just-barely-2, or when Kyle can identify when I have or haven’t added butter to the macaroni and cheese, or when Owen can accurately guess the ingredients in a pasta sauce. Still, mostly I lose sight of just how Foodie they are. Until something occurs in my presence that just — smack! — reminds me.
This morning Kyle brought a CD downstairs and had it playing loudly in the kitchen as the three bambinos played on the floor and I emptied the dishwasher. It was a CD of kids’ songs that they’ve had forever. At one point the song “She’ll Be Comin’ Around the Mountain” was blaring and we were all singing along to the words. “She’ll be riding six white horses when she comes… we’ll all go out to meet her when she comes… we’ll kill the old red rooster when she comes…” Anyway… in the middle of the song at one point, out of nowhere, between verses, I could have sworn I heard Owen say, simply, “Chinatown.” I noticed it and kind of wondered what that was about, but it was just a quick one word, and we all kept on singing. And then it got to the verse, “we’ll all have chicken and dumplings when she comes…” and Owen jumps up and down, exclaiming, “Dumplings! yum yum! dumplings! I love dumplings!” Trying very hard not to laugh, I proceeded to, as nonchalantly as possible, ask him a couple of questions and thus I very quickly realized that in his own mind that whole song is — and always has been — about “a girl going to Chinatown for soup dumplings.” Now that is a good example of a — smack! — reminder of just how Foodie my Foodie Kids really are.
This post makes me so incredibly happy. I would say that my husband and I are also not foodie foodies but we come pretty darn close and are pretty selective about what and where we eat. We are in the process of adopting a baby boy from Ethiopia and one major topic of conversation has been food. I would absolutely love it if our son was as adventurous with food as Kyle, Owen and Meera. Your blog definitely gives me hope that not all kiddos are picky.