Tip of the Week

I've started taking the New York Times book review over to the computer on Sunday nights, to add books of interest either to my Amazon wishlist or, more commonly, to request them from the local public library. There is usually a line for copies from the public library, but it is nice to have a steady stream of books coming. (And our local public library has a "freeze request" function if too many seem to be coming in at once.) When they do children's reviews, I usually go to Amazon and order a few for my son to add something new to his bedtime stories.

This is a do-it-now kind of hack, and like so many of these, has really made me happy with a few minutes of time.

The Wheels on the Bus

I've started riding the bus at a new, somewhat earlier time. It is terrific. This morning I sat on the bus and thought about how much I was enjoying the sound of the wheels.

All because the chattering old guy was not on this bus.

This retired (I assume) man rides the bus at the same time each morning, and talks for the entire trip. Usually he is talking to the driver, and less frequently to a fellow passenger. If he's hard put for conversation, he will bug the nannies and their charges. I know his name, the names of his kids, and, for a while, until I forgot, I knew his address. (I entertained myself by imagining I would have a tee-shirt printed up and sent to his house, reading "I'm the reason iPods were invented!") He regales the driver with trivia about the city and his neighbors, sometimes lingering at the bus steps before he gets off to finish his monologue.

Maybe there are good reasons he's so chatty. I don't know. But I just want a nice, quiet bus ride in the morning. The sound of those wheels is a beautiful thing, and it made me happy all day.

101 Simple Meals for Stressed Moms

Last Wednesday the food section of the New York Times ran an article on strategies for cooking for a family. It was nice to see, although a bit impractical from my perspective — I'm probably not going to be spending Sunday figuring out what to cook for the rest of the week, and I'm definitely not making pot roast any time soon.

But today, Mark Bittman and his list came to the rescue for the rest of us: those of us who find ourselves facing, on a regular basis and despite all good intentions, the problem of what to cook at the end of the day. His list of 101 ideas may have been intended for hot cooks in New York kitchens, but most would work decently well for kids too (and some, like number 54, seem aimed right at them). I thought it was genius. Now if only the Times would print the list in a convenient size for hanging on the fridge, I'd be the first in line to send in my $4.95 plus shipping and handling.

How to raise an adventurous eater

My son is two and a half, so these can be no more than preliminary thoughts on getting a kid to try new things. By adventurous eater I mean a child who is willing to try new cuisines, not one who eats a wide variety of vegetables or what have you. It would be cool if my son loved hummus, brussel sprouts, and spinach salad. He doesn't. He does, however, love dim sum and Thai food.

I grew up in the Midwest, in a true meat-and-potatoes family. For many years my parents purchased a side of beef to store in the freezer. And cooked with lard. Vegetables often came in cans. It has been a long, long time since I've eaten those kinds of meals, and part of my transition to who I am has to do with what I eat.

I've had this idea of an adventurous eater in my head, as a goal, since the transition away from baby mush to real food. A tiny part of it is about diet: we all know that kids (and the rest of us) should eat more vegetables, varied grains, and so forth. Most ethnic cuisines have these in greater abundance than the average American meal, and, I think, provide them in a more appealing package. It's easier to eat cabbage and spinach if they are in a dumpling.

Eating adventurously is also about being open to new things, and new experiences. I want my son to go to new, unexplored places and find a way to make the situation work. Part of this is being willing to try what's on your plate, even if it looks funny. In learning to do this you also learn respect for other cultures. I've eaten a second helping of pig intestine soup because it was provided for me as a special treat. I'd rather not have it again, but that evening was worth the charade on my part. Does adventurous eating lead to exuberant living? I don't know, but I have cousins who won't venture beyond that Midwestern palate, and also still live within 20 miles of their mother.

How does this work out in practice? Well, we assume it is normal to eat a wide variety of different things. We take him to (or get carry-out from) restaurants where we want to eat. Most ethnic restaurants are forgiving of children, and are less expensive to boot. We tend to go to Asian restaurants. We choose dishes we think he will like, and tend to share with him rather than choose something designated for children (not surprisingly, most ethnic don't have children's menus). We don't get upset if he doesn't eat much: if he has a grain, some milk or other dairy (mmm ... mango lassi) and some fruit, he'll probably make it through the night. We let him try things that don't seem like kid food. He's had barley tea at Korean restaurants, and has developed quite a taste for chrysthanemum tea. He's ordered himself a caesar salad and eaten most of it. Just yesterday, he requested bulgogi ("beef and rice"). So we're on our way.

But he won't eat avocado.