Indeed every so often, Mr. Picky Pants shows up at my dinner table and I must struggle to handle the situation appropriately, so as not to squelch his interest in all kinds of food.
Take tonight. I roasted up one of Izzy's favorite vegetables, butternut squash. But instead of serving leaving well enough alone, I combined it with some sauteed red onion and fresh ricotta cheese, and tossed it with bowtie pasta. I was convinced it was a culinary masterpiece. Izzy thought otherwise.
He ate a few bites of the squash and pushed it away. Then he started eating the bowties and began to complain. "I don't like squash this way. I don't want cheese all over it. It doesn't taste good. I want it the old way." And on and on the litany of complaints went. He only ate about half of the pasta and almost none of the squash before claiming he was done.
I told him he would not be having dessert unless he ate some more. He protested and continued to whine about it. I told him he needed to eat two more bites which he finally agreed to do. He giggled as I teased him a bit about the strange picky eater who landed at our table.
What do you do when a picky eater lands at yours?