Food Notes

One of my small triumphs over the past year has been, after many years of unsuccessful attempts, developing a true taste and appreciation for olives. I've always strongly identified with my Greek heritage, and the inability to appreciate a good olive seemed like a serious threat to my credibility as a good (very small) part-Greek. I think that what finally helped me over the edge was a noticeable increase in the amount of olive oil that J and I have been using in food prep recently.

"Do you think we're using too much?"
"No, it's way healthier to prepare lots of food from scratch and see how much oil and salt is going in on your own rather than buying it pre-prepared and to have no idea."

Either way, we've used a lot of olive oil recently. Still, it's hard to argue with those roasted brussel sprouts.

It would not surprise anyone that knows him that James does not like olives. This is a child who has only eaten two different types of cereals for breakfast every morning for the last three years of his life, and would certainly veto any alternative breakfast (except MAYBE pancakes, on a special occasion) in favor of these two cereals. James eats the same sandwich for lunch every day. And at dinner, no matter what we've prepared for him, he uses the exact same routine of excusing himself to the bathroom, playing with his drink, and attempting to bargain for less bites, to get himself out of eating anything that isn't a ham and cheese sandwich, sugary cereal, or dessert.

We make spectacular food for him, really. Quinoa salad with black beans and fresh cilantro. Braised lentils with mushrooms. Homemade soups and chilis, casseroles, wraps, decadent pastas, chicken dishes, and all manner of fruits and vegetables.

"Hey, you know what my favorite food is? A ham and cheese sandwich with spicy mustard cut into triangles."

Similarly, it would not surprise anyone that knows him that Owen DOES like olives. He wrinkled his nose the first time he tried one, because I'm pretty sure he was expecting (despite my warning) that it was going to be a grape. But once he figured out what to expect, he downed about six of the pimento-stuffed green olives in a row before I cut him off.

He's one of those kids that will eat just about anything, as a matter of fact. That quinoa black bean salad? He eats it by the fistful. Pickles, peppers, and onions are no problem. He would eat bread at every meal, and he's an accomplished cracker thief. (You really can't leave a bag of chips or crackers open anywhere around him. He'll have pushed a chair up to the table and be into the bag before you turn around.)

As I said, his love of olives wasn't particularly surprising. But I did think maybe he'd draw the line at a lemon. Turns out, no. He made a surprised face and his first taste of the lemon half I offered him the other night, then immediately dove into it again and carried it around with him sucking it (and squeezing the juice out all over the front of him) for about the next hour.

Bitter doesn't bother Owen, and that goes for coffee also. A few days ago while J was doing dishes in the kitchen she heard a satisfied "MMMmmm!" coming from the living room. Owen was standing on the chair at my desk taking down gulps of her old coffee, and then typing on the open laptop. (I have to unplug the laptop and put it in a drawer that he can't get open nowadays. When Owen isn't getting into it on his own James is opening it up for him and attempting to teach him numbers and letters by the "bang and mash" method of touch-typing.)

Owen was removed from the computer and and coffee, of course, but we found out later that afternoon, after I'd left part of a cup up on the table, that he doesn't particularly care whether he takes his coffee with creamer or just straight black. He thought mine was pretty good too.