Good Taste
Matthew has no food exploration activities. He likes a small list of different foods and won’t try new ones. He will not eat bread, peanut butter, steak, or home-cooked hamburgers. He will try no vegetables except rice and French fries. It’s a limited culinary life. He likes pasta (no sauce), candy, parmesan cheese, sometimes bacon, some tofu, some hot dogs (plain, no bun), ketchup, burgers from a burger joint, French fries, popcorn, hot chocolate, chocolate milk, chocolate cake, some cookies, and some potato chips.
By contrast, his peers at school eat pickles, sushi, kabobs, chicken tenders, edamame, peanut butter and jelly, bread, rolls, etc. Matthew is culinarily stunted; dinners are a challenge.
I’m used to it, but it would be better if I didn’t have to be. I am told it will change and soon he will eat everything—and all of everything. I have yet to see a light at the end of that tunnel, but I have to trust the process.
We live in a place called Carmel Valley, at the northern edge of the city of San Diego. Around us are the relatively wealthy communities of La Jolla, Del Mar, and Rancho Santa Fe. The last one historically ranks among the top wealthiest zip codes in the US. We are Rancho Santa Fe-adjacent.
We have lived in similar places. Our closest neighbors drive Teslas, Mercedes-Benzes, BMWs, Porsches, Lamborghinis, and Bentleys. (I’m sure they love seeing me roll up in the Kia Carnival.) Parents in our preschool drive similar cars, mostly larger ones for child-ferrying.
Yesterday, we had a playdate for incoming kindergarten students at Matthew’s elementary school next year. The elementary school is located in Rancho Santa Fe (next to the fire station and across the street from the animal hospital and the investment broker's office). Matthew was so excited to go, and the organizers had thoughtfully provided coffee and bagels. I knew one person there and got a chance to meet lots more moms and dads. The parking lot was filled with BMW X7s and Benz E-class SUVs, with a sprinkling of Subaru Foresters and Toyota Camrys.
We were there about fifteen minutes when Matthew told me he wanted a bagel and cream cheese. What??! He’s been holding out on me.
After one bite: “Papa, can you put this in my lunch next week? I really like it.”
As with anything involving preschool and elementary school, the parents are half my age (or younger). At this school, there was a definite contingent of first wives on their second facelifts. One kid told his mom he was thirsty, so she pulled a glass Perrier bottle for him out of her oversized haute couture bag. It’s a good thing he didn’t want a snack; he might have gotten some caviar. On the way home, we passed by a Rolls-Royce Phantom and a few big Bentleys.
Overall, it was a success. Matthew had a blast and we’re excited to start kindergarten in August.