Little Foodies in the Big City: or Why Toddlers Should Eat More Foie Gras

 

Getting ready to partake in NYC's gourmet food truck craze: Wafels and Dinges.

My kids are tiny little foodies in the making. Last year when I made bacon ice cream, instead of crinkling up their cute little nose at it—because after all, bacon doesn’t go in ice cream!—they simply gave it a try (and loved it). Ask them what the best poultry is and they will give you the correct answer (duck). When I bake desserts with my middle daughter, we make chocolate soufflé and crème brûlée and other French-sounding things with funny little marks over random letters.

So they are pretty fun to travel with. On our recent trip to the mainland, we made a plan to cover as many different restaurants as possible with stops in Columbus, Atlanta, Tampa, Washington DC, Philadelphia, and New York City.

In the past, our typical road-trip fare has consisted of a lot of fast food. However, my little foodies-in-the-making have come to a point where they actually groan if you tell them you are going to take them to McDonalds. So we aim a little higher. For example, in Atlanta we went to Flip Burger Boutique, a burger joint owned by Richard Blaise (the winner of Top Chef All-stars). Instead of a Big Mac, we got a burger with blue cheese, frisée, caramelized onion, and red wine jam. Instead of bright orange cheese-like substance, we got Swiss cheese foam. Instead of fries, we got caramelized Brussels sprouts. And for dessert, we got three milkshakes (burned marshmello-nutella, Krispy Kreme, and Captain Crunch) made with liquid nitrogen.

Sounds fun right? And it is. But here is the problem. How much money is too much to pay for children who 1) may not have a broad enough culinary experience to really appreciate great food, and 2) may not remember the meal? Did my kids like the crispy pork belly and watermelon salad that we ate at the Fatty Crab in NYC? Sure. Did they realize how spectacularly special that dish is? Maybe. But maybe not. So was it a waste of money to feed it to them?

My wife and I both value great food and consider eating one of the main purposes for travel (and life, come to think of it). So we are willing to spend fairly significant amounts of money on good food. But are we/should we be willing to spend significant amounts to feed our kids? We could have done our summer trip much cheaper had we just fed the kids fast food, Chinese take-out, and pizza. Was it worth it to feed our kids good food?

After some discussion, we have come to the conclusion that it is worth it. Our children would not have been happy eating cheap take-out food for the whole trip because we have taught them what good food is. Did the kids appreciate the food as much as my wife and I? Probably not. Are they learning to appreciate good food by partaking of it? You betcha!

That is the kind of education we will splurge a little for.

Travelling with My Children: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Just Take a Nap

The daughters riding the subway through New York City.

I remember the exact moment when I realized my family had hit an important turning point. It was during a camping trip several years ago. My youngest daughter was about four years old. Up until that point, our family camping trips consisted mainly of my wife and me running about like pinballs bouncing from child to child trying to keep our three lovely daughters from eating dirt, jumping into rivers, sitting in the middle of the street, swinging from the tent poles, etc. You get the picture. 

These “relaxing” trips into the wilds were mostly work. Instead of passing the hot part of the day swinging in my hammock with a good book until I dropped off into an afternoon coma, I would watch my small children in the hopes that we would not go home with a smaller number of progeny than we started with.

However, that all changed one day. I don’t remember where we were camping exactly, but I remember making camp in the afternoon, telling the kids not to do anything stupid, and then sitting back to play goalie on the street side of camp while Michelle guarded the river behind camp. Instead of immediately trying to drown themselves, the kids simply started to play within the boundaries we had set. We kept watching, sure they were just trying to lure us into a sense of complacency so that once we had let down our guard sufficiently they could do cartwheels in the street while eating scorpions. But they just kept doing what they were told. My wife and I were astounded. We got to sit next to each other and talk (since we had brought neither hammock nor book, assuming trying to nap or read was simply a fool’s errand). 

That was the turning point. We had always loved camping and road tripping, and we had continued to engage in both activities even after we had kids. But our trips with little ones had always been far more work than fun. But not anymore. Now our kids were young enough to get really, really excited when they saw things like the geysers of Yellowstone, a bear in the Sierras, or a rock in the middle of the trail, but they were old enough that we could trust them to make (mostly) good decisions to keep themselves safe. Travelling with the kids had suddenly become more fun than work!

And that is not all. As they have grown, my kids have shown themselves to be fantastic travelers. They can pass an entire day in the car without blinking an eye (thank you books on tape/cd/ipod). They will go for days on end living in the dirt without whining about needing a shower (thank you wet wipes). Two of the three will eat absolutely anything you set in front of them (thank you Food TV). And they have begun to mock travelers who do not pack super light (thank goodness!). 

On our most recent month-long road trip across the eastern part of the mainland, each of the kids was told she could have one grumpy day. On that day, the child was allowed to have a bad attitude and would not get reprimanded for it. All you had to do was say, “I am using my grumpy day!” and we would just let that child trail behind us, grumbling to her heart’s content. Despite a grueling schedule of walking across cities and through museums, not a single one of my girls used her grumpy day. At one point in Washington DC my oldest child’s feet hurt so bad we joked about her walking like a grandma. She was clearly in a great deal of pain and fell flat on her face at one point. Her reaction: she laughed. She laughed as she limped. She laughed as she stumbled. She even laughed as we made fun of her.

So here is me being grateful that a travel-bug-bitten guy like myself was blessed with compatible children.  The next several posts will be about our trip this summer. And if you still have small children that require a lot of work, just remember there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Hang in there.

I Have Managed To Touch a Shark

(This is the first of my "About Me" stories as explained here.)

Many years ago I had a unique opportunity. The university I was attending put on a free showing of the movie Jaws. The kicker: the screening took place in at the swimming pool. Now, you might think that a reasonable person would be no more fearful of watching Jaws in a swimming pool than on a couch. After all, there is exactly zero possibility of a real shark biting you in four feet of highly chlorinated fresh water several hundred miles from the nearest ocean.

Despite being a (moderately) reasonable person, I found watching Jaws semi-immersed to be a surrealistically creepy experience. My brain knew a shark would not swim up from the “deep” to make a snack of me. My feet, on the other hand, were not convinced. They itched to be set on dry land. They fidgeted. They kicked. They worried. My brain tried to reassure them that they were safe. Tried to convince them that a wide range of females would consider me unworthy of attention should they carry out their plans to flee to terra firma.  And in the end, probably due to said females, my brain won. But just barely. I never relaxed, and a part of me expected to be pulled violently down any second throughout the whole movie.

I have since come to terms with sharks. In fact, it is fair to say that I love sharks. Seeing a shark swimming freely in the ocean is a rare treat, and I am constantly at a loss to convince my non-diving friends that when you are lucky enough to see a shark, all you can think of is how beautiful it is.

Yes, yes. Sometimes a shark takes a bite out of a person. So do dogs. But fortunately for us, humans are rather unappetizing to almost every meat-eater on Earth (in the food world, people are kind of like the spam of creatures—it is possible to get a taste for spam, but most of your global peers will think you’re gross). Sharks rarely bite people. Even if you spend a considerable amount of time in the water, here are some things that are more likely to occur than a shark attack:

·         You are more likely to be killed by a falling aircraft than a shark.

·         You are far more likely to drown than be attacked by a shark (in fact, you are more likely to drown in the bathtub than be attacked by a shark).

·         You are more likely to be killed playing football than by a shark attack.

·         You are more likely to be killed by a falling coconut, a vending machine you accidentally pulled over on yourself, or lightning.

·         And my favorite: you are more likely to choke to death on a GUMMY SHARK than be attacked by a real shark.

If you drive to a beach and swim for hours in shark infested waters, the most dangerous thing you have done all day … is drive to the beach.

So yes, I seek out sharks. The first time I ever swam with sharks was in the Bahamas. It was only my second scuba dive. It was a “Shark Dive” where the divers sat on the sandy bottom while the dive master opened a container of chopped fish. Soon there were more sharks than I could count, swirling and gliding past me. Several times a shark swam past, and I could see its eye watching me, tracking me. Eventually, one swam right over my head, and I couldn’t resist. I raised my hand and touched its belly. It didn’t react at all, just glided past into the blue, my fingers tickling its entire length.

.

Since that time I have had a handful of opportunities to swim with sharks. I treasure each one, and never once have I felt even a fraction of the fear I felt watching Jaws in a swimming pool. Stupid Hollywood. 

What = Me

My life, like that of most people, seems to be a conglomeration of a handful of really good stories mashed together with dull, average, everyday life. For reasons that may be obvious, I, like most people, like to focus on the good stories and forget the other stuff. So when I started this blog, I thought of what I considered a "greatest hits" of my stories, condensed them down into cryptic one-sentence descriptions, and included the resulting list in my "About Me" section (seen to the right). Several people have asked me to write the whole stories out, and since the total number of people who read this blog is not significantly more than "several" I have decided to comply.

Unfortunately, I cannot figure out how to add links to the "About Me" section of the side bar. So I have added a page called "About Me." The link for it is at the top right. As I write the stories, I will link them on that list.

First up "I Have Managed To Touch a Shark"

Water, is taught by thirst

Water, is taught by thirst.
Land -- by the Oceans passed.
Transport -- by throe --
Peace -- by its battles told --
Love, by Memorial Mold --
Birds, by the Snow.

                      -Emily Dickinson

I have said this before, but I will say it again: Hawaii is defined by water.  The Pacific Ocean shapes how we spend our time, what we put on our tables for dinner, and the price we pay for the everyday "necessities" of life.  Water is thick in the air, and sometimes falls from the sky so intensely it is easy to believe some ancient, angered deity is attempting to scour the island clean.  Clouds hang heavy in the valleys of mountains filled to bursting with all things green and growing.  Water shapes, paints, and provides for the islands.

Utah, where I lived before Hawaii, is also largely defined by water. Hawaii is defined by abundance. Utah is defined by dearth.  The air and ground are dry. Walking across the desert, moisture flees the body.  Got a sandwich?  Eat it fast. Bread goes stale in exactly 43 seconds.  Faster if there is a breeze.  Canyons which collect and shelter water are often the only havens for life in the desert.

If Ms. Dickinson is correct, I would appreciate water in Utah in a way that is impossible in Hawaii.  I could be wrong, of course, but I think she has missed something in her argument.  I have never appreciated water more than I do now.  I have become more aware of the simple beauty of the thing by constantly interacting with it.  By spending my free time surrounded by it.  By thinking about how it affects everything I do and say and am.  

Maybe this is because I once lived in the desert and now I don't.  Maybe.  But I don't think so.

And since Ms. Dickinson doesn't really care about water or birds, but rather our loved ones, I think there is an important lesson to learn here.

The Other Side

Since my last two posts included my favorite things about Hawaii, this post lays out the top five things I miss.  Here they are:

5) The peace of mind that comes from knowing there are no centipedes in your bed... or your shoes, etc.  I have only had one experience on the pointy end of Hawaii's giant centipedes.  It snuggled up to me while I was asleep and apparently took offense when I rolled over on it.  I woke up thinking I had been slashed with a razor blade.  Now I check the bed every night before I go to sleep to make sure no little monsters are hiding under my pillow.

4) The first snowfall of the year.  Especially if it comes around Christmas time.  I don't miss those late season blizzards that seemed to hit every May when we lived in the Rocky Mountains.  But the first snowball fight/snowman/sledding outing of the year is something I will always miss.

3) Privacy.  Houses are open in Hawaii.  No one really uses air conditioning, so all windows are open all year around.  Space is also at a premium, so houses tend to be pretty close together.  Once, Michelle sneezed while she was in our bedroom.  The neighbor said, "bless you!"  I'll leave it at that.

2) Cheap food.  When we left for Hawaii, a gallon of milk was less than $2 at our local grocery store.  Nothing costs $2 here.  A gallon of milk is $5 if you get it on sale.  A box of my favorite breakfast cereal costs a kidney.

1) Road trips.  We are road trip people.  By the time my oldest child was 10 she had been in about 35 states.    We go camping in national parks.  We hunt down and feast on local specialties.  We devour books on tape voraciously.  And it is comforting to know that you can drive to visit family (even if it may take a couple of days to get there).  I miss spending hours and hours driving (in the same direction).  You can't do that on a small island.

May I Have the Envelope Please: Part II

Here is the exciting conclusion of the "Top Ten Things I Love about Living in Hawaii" list:

5) Mellow traffic.  Want to make a left hand turn in Hawaii (away from the craziness of Waikiki)?  Just put on your turn signal, and traffic will stop and let you out.  In fact, the other day I was trying to turn left out of our neighborhood and several cars passed without letting us out.  My seven year old, in her best exasperated voice, declared these drives to be "TOURISTS!"  And the only socially acceptable use of the car's horn in Hawaii is to get a friend's attention as you drive past so you can wave to him or her.  If the person in front of you at the red light doesn't go when the light turns green ... just wait.  You'll catch it next time.

4) Palm trees.  I love palm trees.  I don't know why ... but I do.

3) Fish ... it's what's for dinner.  The previous two states I lived in, Colorado and Utah, were not the best place to partake of seafood.  Oh sure, there was good trout in Colorado, but that was about the size of it.  No Mahi Mahi.  No Butterfish.  No Moonfish.  No Snapper.  No Moi!  How can you live with no Moi!!!???

2) My job.  Where better for a professor of international relations than the most international school in the US?

1) The beach.  I know, the beach was also number 10.  But the beach is really the Alpha and Omega of Hawaii. The air blowing in through my window right now smells of salt.  I spent the summer swimming, snorkeling, spearfishing, and lounging in the sand.  Now is surf season.  My kids boogie board and "wave jump" on a regular basis.  One day I spent about a half an hour floating on my back in the ocean on a calm day.  I came home, took a shower, and went to a routine doctor's appointment.  The doctor took my blood pressure, and when he looked at the results he gave me a high five.  Gotta love the beach.

Next time: top things I miss about the mainland.