Anthony Bourdain, noted author, television personality and chef, has a chapter in his latest book Medium Raw devoted to how he and his wife are scaring their toddler daughter away from McDonald's. In the evening, after bedtime, they stand outside her door and whisper loudly tales of missing children last seen going into McDonald's. Subtle comments are made on park benches about the cooties one can get by getting too close to Ronald. Through means overt and covert, they are waging a war for the heart and mind of their daughter. I can see why. I imagine that for a chef, McDonald's is the true great Satan of our age. His war is what we these days call existential. He fights not just to win, but to define who he is and who he wants his daughter to be.
I have a similar story about shaping my son Jack. It starts with me sitting in one of those little toddler chairs that barely comes up to the knee. Knees are a consideration here because they are now very close to my chin. I sit there with my ex-wife and Jack's pre-school teacher for a periodic parent/child conference. Around the room are all the tools and objects of a Montessori preschool: blocks and beads, buckles and polishing supplies. This is mid-way through Jack's first year, and as a 4 year old, the tasks are mostly about working his little fingers, following instructions and learning routines. The teacher is happy with Jack. He is a good boy and a good student. She describes his little friends in the classroom and how he likes to spend his time. And then she drops a bomb, a neutron bomb, the kind that kills everything within miles without destroying any buildings. She says his favorite activity is: flower arranging. The images and feelings that go through my mind are wild and extreme, flashing lights, worlds shaking and turned upside down. A mental eyes rolling to the back of my head follows as I emotionally flail in images of a future florist, a passionate flower decorator, spending his days with lilacs and lillies, and other flowerphiles. No. No. No. That is not going to be my son. The next day, I go out and by him a toy gun.
Mind you, this was not about making my son a future cold-blooded, jarhead, Rambo. He was and remains a sweet and thoughtful boy, concerned with life and animals and protecting the weak. Just now he will do so with a gun, leaving a trail of bad guys behind. That evening in the classroom I didn't rail against the teacher, asking her what she was trying to do to my son. I didn't rail against my ex-wife, asking what kind of future man we were raising. I didn't rail against my son, scaring, scolding or otherwise souring him on flower arranging. I merely handed him a toy gun, a Star Wars Clone Wars laser rifle to be specific, and off he went to pursue the rest of a now better balanced childhood. Take that Count Dookoo, Pow, Pow (and take that flower arranger, bam, bam). Does this make me a good father or bad? How about Anthony Bourdain, right or wrong? From what I read, he sounds like he is a wonderful, loving, thoughtful father. I consider myself one as well, but we do have different styles to parenting, and food.
So, on what to eat for dinner, yesterday I had made my boys penne with a cauliflower ragu. Of course, I didn't tell them it was cauliflower ragu. That would be a death knell for getting children to eat it, and honestly, I was nervous that they wouldn't. They asked what it was and I replied merely "pasta." They nodded, picked up their forks, and wolfed it down like young boys do. Later, they asked if they could have dinosaur chicken nuggets tonight. No begging, no negotiating based upon forced fancy food the previous evening, just a simple reasonable request. I said yes. The trains are running on time, why get in the way. My kids are eating the new recipes I make occasionally, the healthy food I serve them almost always, and if they want nuggets once in a while, then that's ok with me. Besides, I try to convince myself, these are baked, not deep fried. Serves 2.
Ingredients:
10 dinosaur shaped frozen chicken nuggets
Directions:
Place the nuggets in a microwave safe bowl and cover. Microwave for 2 1/2 minutes. Allow to rest 1 minute. Serve with a big dollop of ketchup.
Lmao this is comedy
ReplyDelete