Foodaholic

Sometimes you just can't fight genetics. Okay, most times you can't fight genetics. Or is it all the time?

Little c can't fight the genetics he inherited from me that makes him love food. I can't wait until he can speak in complete sentences and we can have long discourses on all things related to food. I wonder if he'll inherit my keen sense of smell and will be able to discern what that je ne sai quoi is that's taking that particular food over the top. If not, that's okay, because I know that he enjoys food as it is.

I always hoped I'd have a good eater, especially after seeing my nephew eat octopus salad with a side of blue cheese at the ripe old age of 2. And so far I have a great eater. He'll eat that octopus salad with a side of blue cheese and raise you one. How about pickled beets with a side of saurkraut? So far I can't think of anything he won't eat. We continue to put foods that he's a little iffy about in front of him repeatedly and I think it's working as he'll eat it, if only a few bites.

And while I don't know if he'll pour over cookbooks at night while reading in bed like his Mama, I do know that I can count on him to try anything and everything and clean up most of his plate and push his fingers together while saying "mo". And I'm recording it here on this blog so if he does become a picky eater (perish the thought), I can show him what he used to eat and cling to the memories.
One of his faves: pickled beets, cheese, avocado and cherry tomatoes. This night he also had bread, applesauce, yogurt and graham crackers.
Blueberry pancake (he had 2 that night), veggie sausage patties (again, he had 2) and strawberries. He then had a big bowl of yogurt (with 17grams of fat/serving!).
 
 
 
Yogurt definitely tastes better when you get to feed yourself!