Spoonfed » Handy

Simplicity, stress and other relative things

Christina — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 17:20:41 +0000

It’s been nuts in my house since late summer. That’s when my husband and I decided to act on our long-nagging desire to shake things up by paring things down. Things, literally, as in possessions. (It’s been non-stop Craigslisting, Freecycling and donating around here.) But also things in the greater cosmic sense: stress, expenses, responsibilities.

We’re trading our big old house for a loft in a former warehouse downtown. My husband just started a new job close to the new place. We’re ditching the second car. More being. Less doing. That’s the idea, anyway.

We have several months yet until we move, and plenty more to do. So when Tess wanted an ice-skating party for her 8th birthday, it was a huge relief. We’ve run the gamut on parties — from small home celebrations to a “Little House”-themed bash in a log cabin — but this year, the simpler, the better.

So we rented our city’s outdoor rink. Everyone brought their families. And we celebrated our Winter Solstice girl on a clear, gorgeous late December day. No gifts, no favors, no elaborate party fare. (And I’ve been known to put the “labor” in “elaborate.”) We collected donations for the city’s animal shelter. I made snowflake gingerbread cookies (on sticks! using a variation on this recipe). We had clementines and water and hot cocoa. And everyone had all kinds of fun.

Hot cocoa story: We ordered from our local grocer. They make it on-site, then pour it into those nifty to-go boxes with spouts, the ones that stay hot for a few hours. And because I asked (and paid a few extra bucks), they were happy to sub local organic milk for the milk they usually use. Some people see that as fussy. I see it as simple. Asked. Accepted. Who ever said this stuff has to be stressful? (It doesn’t.)

On that same note: Before she settled on ice skating, Tess lobbied for a party at a local indoor play center. And so I called and had one of those conversations I often have. Me: “We’d like to bring our own food, please.” Play center staffer: “Do you have a concern about allergies?” Me: “No, we just don’t eat the kind of food you serve.” Staffer: “Outside food is against our policy (followed by an explanation that blamed a non-existent state law).”

Well, that led to a phone call with the owner, and wouldn’t you know it? Easy-peasy. After I explained that we don’t eat the highly processed junk they typically serve (OK, not in those exact words), he offered to get whatever food we wanted and prepare it in their kitchen. I was all set to order fruit and veggie trays when Tess changed her mind. But I like knowing that’s an option for the future.

BTW, all this rightsizing and rethinking is why it’s been so quiet on Spoonfed the last several months. But that’s not part of the simplification. Quite the opposite. I’m hoping these changes free up even more time for blogging and the thinky pieces I like so much. In the meantime, I’ll try to keep things lively over on Facebook (where I get my micro-blogging fix). And look for a new post early next month that will help get Spoonfed back on track.

Happy 2012, all.

Spoonfed is on Facebook. You’ll find links to blog posts, news and commentary on raising food-literate kids, questions and comments from readers, voices, viewpoints, the works. Stop by, like the page, chime in, spread the word. (Thanks.)

Farm camp, 19th century style

Christina — Tue, 30 Aug 2011 15:36:57 +0000

Tess just spent a week playing a 19th century farm girl. She’s done camps at this living-history museum every summer since she was 4. (You haven’t seen cute until you’ve seen 4-year-olds dressed like Laura Ingalls.) But the previous camps were a little of this, a little of that, a sampler of life in the 1800s.

Now that she’s 7, Tess got to pick a themed camp, and 19th Century Farm Kids it was, held at the Pioneer Farmstead at Genesee Country Village & Museum, about 30 minutes from where we live in western New York.

Over the week, the kids learned about the animals (sheep, oxen, ducks, geese, chickens, turkeys, cows and pigs), collected eggs and dabbled in cheesemaking. They pulled purslane for salads. And soaked flax to extract the fibers for linen-making. They even picked and tasted hops. (There’s a working 19th century brewery on-site.)

There was barn-cleaning and wood-stacking, work followed by the fun of 19th century games. They shelled corn and sewed corn bags (like bean bags), then made them again after chipmunks raided the barn.

Every day they recorded their experiences in journals, using fountain pens and ink.

I’ve written about GCVM before, in posts on maple sugaring and teaching kids about industrial meat production. The village offers immersion-style history, with costumed role-players sharing the mundane yet fascinating rhythms of early American life. That of course includes the routines and rituals of food and farming. And for kids, especially, it’s a great lesson in agriculture at its most basic. Sure, the kids immerse for only a few hours a day, and they go home in air-conditioned cars to houses with refrigerators and snacks in bags, but it all sinks in, you know?

It’s the reason (along with the “Little House” picture books) that Tess wanted a pioneer party for her 5th birthday, which we managed to pull off by renting a 1938 log cabin (itself a replica of a 1721 fort) in a nearby park. How authentic? No heat. Only a fireplace. In December. Looking back, it seems a little nuts. But there was sledding and butter-making and running around in bonnets and straw hats. And everyone went home with maple candy and an appreciation for central heat. (Oh: Renting a cabin with no heat in December? Cheap.)

This summer, when we visited Plimoth Plantation in Plymouth, Mass., we found fantastic exhibits and stories about how the Wampanoag and the colonists ate seasonally, in sync with nature. And these museums are everywhere. Check out the Association for Living History, Farm and Agricultural Museums, with members throughout the U.S. and Canada.

My only complaint about farm camp? Though kids brought their own snacks and lunches (stored in cloth-covered baskets), the camp supplied drinks. Two choices: Water and “lemonade.” As in: Country Time. As in: artificial colors and other chemical additives that no way, no how existed in the 1800s. (Though, OK, some other poisonous food colorings did.) And, oh, by the way, no actual lemon. Next time, I’d like to see the kids make their own real lemonade. Just like Mrs. Oleson.

This post is linked into Real Food Wednesdays and Fight Back Fridays.

Picture this: Victory garden

Christina — Wed, 06 Jul 2011 16:31:14 +0000

This is how we spent Fourth of July weekend, prepping and planting a long-overdue garden. As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve gardened for years, but always flowers, never fruits or vegetables. We’ve had token edibles — containers of tomatoes and herbs, squash sprouting from the compost bin — but no proper vegetable patch. Not that I haven’t wanted to plant one. I just… haven’t. With our CSA, several farmers’ markets and lots of u-picking to keep us seasonally sated, it just wasn’t a priority.

But, as happens around here, Tess had other ideas. For her 7th birthday in December, we’d given her Lanie, the tree-hugging, butterfly-loving, camping-happy American Girl doll that Tess had decided was her vinyl doppelganger. Soon after, we read the Lanie books, and before March was over, Tess (and Lanie) had spent hours plotting a tiny stone-bordered garden and building a compost pile. Never mind that both were dismantled for other projects. The proverbial seed had been planted.

As spring brought rain and mud, Tess scrounged some old pole-bean and lettuce seeds (that we never got around to planting last year) and potted them up. Wouldn’t you know it? The things flourished.

Next came the books showing bean teepees, which got my husband the engineer involved. Then the farmers’ markets opened. Tess wanted one tomato plant, then another, then more lettuce starts and some pepper and watermelon seedlings. I kept buying herb plants everywhere I went. And, well, a garden was born. We built a lasagna bed, topping it with several years’ worth of compost (black gold, that stuff, seriously). That it took us until July to plant the darn thing is beside the point. That it got planted at all is my definition of a victory garden.

Are you gardening this summer? (It’s not too late.)

This post is linked into Real Food Wednesdays and Fight Back Fridays.

Eggs and chocolates and dyes, oh my

Christina — Tue, 19 Apr 2011 15:52:00 +0000

: Pretty in pastels. Prettier in pinot?

When I wrote about natural egg dyes last spring, I’d just started blogging and I felt compelled to go on a bit about the dangers of artificial food colors. A year later, my position on petrochemical dyes is, um, well-documented. So now I’ll just focus on the fun stuff.

The web is awash in tutorials on natural dyes, including this great simple piece from What’s Cooking with Kids. For more detailed techniques and color effects, check out Martha Stewart and KitchenGardener. Onion skins make gorgeous colors, as shown on these Passover eggs and wrapped eggs.

Green can be tricky, but Kris Bordessa of Attainable Sustainable wrote in Kiwi magazine about using chlorophyll capsules (three capsules to one cup of boiling water). And Melissa Graham of Little Locavores shared in a comment on this Spoonfed post that red wine makes a killer purple. Sparkly, too. But the wine has to be freshly opened, so, you know, get drinking while the kids are dunking.

My contribution to this seasonal fare? An eggsperiment, excerpted from last year’s post, in which I used natural dyes to make fake vs. real more tangible for my daughter:

It’s Easter. Time to color eggs. Why not use fruits and vegetables to dye them naturally? And have a little plant-science lesson on the side? Out came the neon dye tablets leftover from last year. (We dyed. We did not eat.) Then the test tubes from a science kit. Plop, plop, fizz, fizz — oh what a fake color that is.

Me to Tess: “Have you ever seen colors like that in nature?”

Tess: a dutiful grimace and shake of the head.

On to the stove, where we filled pots with eggs, water and various fruits, vegetables and juices. (Here’s where I direct you to folks more kitchen-crafty than me, so you, too, can experience the joy of boiling eggs along with beets and blueberry juice.)

We used brown eggs (instead of the recommended white eggs), so the colors were unpredictable. The beets produced a warm dark brown. Spinach didn’t take at all. The blueberry juice, however, made a deep purple that got a “cool” out of my daughter. And because she really wants pink eggs, we’re going to try another batch with raspberry or pomegranate juice.

As each pot filled with the color of the cooking produce, we talked about how plants have so many beautiful natural colors and how each color represents nutrients our bodies need. With color extracts literally seeping into the water, there was no question at all where they came from, or that we can find all the color we need without putting on a lab coat.

: Red cabbage,
blue egg

Not that Tess was entirely sold. After my little lesson, she informed me that she preferred fake dyes “because I like the pretty colors.” But, she did add (dramatic pause): “We don’t have to eat them.” That was a year ago, though, and for whatever reason she’s back on board. (Maybe because when her class at school did the natural-dye thing last week, they got great results. Like the blue egg at right.) And this year we snagged some white and pastel eggs from our local farmers, so I’ll see if I can dazzle her with more vibrant colors this time.

And, at the least, we’ll have chocolate. Because in addition to the additive-free candy I ordered, I’ll be making chocolate bunny pops using this fantastic recipe from Food with Kid Appeal. The ingredients? Coconut butter, coconut oil, raw honey, almond butter, cacao powder, cinnamon, cayenne pepper and sea salt. I haven’t even made them yet, and already I’m addicted.

Are you dyeing eggs? Making treats? Otherwise prepping for visits of the bunny kind?

Spoonfed is now on Facebook. You’ll find links to blog posts, news and commentary on raising food-literate kids, questions and comments from readers, voices, viewpoints, the works. Stop by, like the page, chime in, spread the word. (Thanks.)

The color of trouble

Christina — Sat, 22 Jan 2011 23:00:55 +0000

Before I started Spoonfed, I began collecting “kid food” advertisements with the intention of skewering them on a regular basis. But as those torn pages piled up, I realized they were all the same.

Different products, different gimmicks: Lunchables give kids brain power! Pop-Tarts are the cornerstone of a balanced breakfast! McDonald’s is healthy for hipster moms and their stylish offspring!

But the same message: Kids are dumb. Parents are tired. Let’s distract them with bright colors and voodoo nutrition. (Then laugh all the way to the bank.)

Look, Mom, petroleum!

So I tossed the pile. And all the ads since have blurred into each other like a bad dream. Then this one caught my eye:

It’s Kool-Aid telling us to “change the way your kids see water.” Water. Because apparently water now is as vile to the wee, senseless ones as spinach and (white) milk.

But it’s not even that someone is trying to sell parents on tricked-out water (hello! sports drinks!). It’s that the main appeal of this tricked-out water is that it’s bright red (or purple or yellow, if you go with Gigglin’ Grape or Laughin’ Lemonade instead of Partyin’ Punch). Kool-Aid Fun Fizz isn’t touting better nutrition or bigger brains. These “drink drops” are all about making water “fun.” And, really, at “just 5 calories,” who cares about those 16 (at least) ingredients?

Yet, as I’ve written before, artificial colors are the charlatans of food additives: enticing, seemingly harmless… then wham. Linked to long-term health problems, these petroleum-derived chemicals often have immediate and devastating effects on children’s behavior and ability to learn. And unlike when we were kids (and our parents were kids), artificial colors are in everything, from food to toothpaste to medicine, even things that are white or look natural (check your pickles and “blueberries” ). Since 1955, that’s added up to a five-fold increase in dye consumption. Not. Good.

Some kids are ultra sensitive to food dyes (and other food additives, too). But even kids without that wiring can go nuts fast. I’ve seen it with my own daughter, a wild child within minutes of eating grocery-store birthday cake at friends’ parties. (It’s not the sugar, folks.) And with schoolmates who bring neon-frosted cupcakes for snacks, and dye- and preservative-laden Lunchables for lunch, then can’t listen or concentrate. It’s to the point where I actually feel ill watching kids eat this stuff.

Thanks to hard lobbying by the Center for Science in the Public Interest, the Feingold Association and concerned parents, the FDA will finally be examining the dye-behavior connection with a hearing in March. I don’t expect speedy resolution, but it’s progress. In the meantime? Read ingredients, ask questions, be diligent. And remember, as school-food activist Susan Rubin notes in this recent post, it’s not just about what your kid eats. It’s about what every kid around your kid eats:

“I point to this blue slushie and talk about second-hand smoke. If just one kid is bouncing off the walls because of some Skittles or other crazy colored/flavored junk, every kid in that classroom is impacted. The teacher has to work harder to gain the attention of the entire class.”

My daughter’s teacher gets it, so while I can’t control what individual kids bring for their own consumption, we have been able to avoid food dyes (and other junk) for classwide celebrations. I also love this idea from Nourish MD about a “real red” Valentine’s Day class party, where the kids talked about artificial colors and brainstormed naturally red foods. (Thanks to Food with Kid Appeal for that V-Day heads-up.)

Now. One last thing. Join me as I say goodbye to the final color fix left in our lives: The Birthday Cake. As I explained here, we’ve long avoided food dyes as a rule, except for the birthday cake I make my daughter each year. All the other ingredients are wholesome, but then I go and junk it up with petrochemicals. I mostly blame inertia. It’s once a year, I view these cakes more as decoration than food, and I figured I’d never find natural dyes as vibrant as the fake stuff. But I’ve grown increasingly wary of food dye in any amount. The effects are too obvious, and the remedy too easy. So I got myself a set of India Tree dyes and, voila.

As luck would have it, Tess wanted a doll cake for her recent birthday, which meant I got to use the same mold I used for her mermaid cake last year. Which means I now get to do dramatic (not really) before-and-after shots:

Queen of the (neon) sea vs. nature girl

We served the cake with good ice cream, and raspberries and clementines on the side. (And water. Plain, clear water.) Nobody bounced off the walls or climbed tables or otherwise dissolved in chaos. But there was silliness and the limbo and flapping of butterfly wings. Fun fueled by little girls, natch.

Thoughts on neon food, red water, ballistic children? How do you deal with the dyes?

This post is linked into Fight Back Fridays and Food Revolution Fridays.

Stealth veggies: Yes or no?

Christina — Tue, 12 Oct 2010 16:13:33 +0000

Last week, out with friends at a new restaurant (a place I wrote about here), my 6-year-old ordered chocolate mousse for dessert. Actually, chocolate avocado mousse. But my daughter didn’t know that. She’s a beginning reader and “avocado” is not yet in her repertoire (though “chocolate” is), so I let her order the mousse without mentioning its secret green ingredient.

Sneaky greens?

Tess has a fickle relationship with avocado. One minute she proclaims guacamole her favorite food or inhales avocado-laced veg sushi. The next she scrunches her nose and declares anything remotely avocado-ish “gross.” Lately it’s been more the latter than the former. Would it have been fortunate if the mere mention of avocado had turned her off the idea of dessert altogether? OK, sure. But scratchmade chocolate mousse is a beautiful thing. Plus, I got to do this:

Me: “Guess what? There’s something else in that mousse besides chocolate. Something green. Can you believe it?”

Tess: Stops licking spoon. Looks at me suspiciously. “Green?”

Me: “Yes, green! It’s actually avocado! Isn’t it cool that you can put avocado in chocolate mousse?”

Tess: Pauses. Stares at bowl. Resumes licking spoon.

So maybe all she cared about was the chocolate. But the thing is that I wanted her to know there was avocado in her mousse. I think it’s important that kids know what’s in their food, and that’s especially true when it’s an ingredient they’ve previously waffled on (or not liked at all). I was reminded of this because a fellow blogger, Naveen over at Little Stomaks, posted a Chef Boyardee commercial that blatantly advocates for hiding vegetables. (The commercial also claims that Chef Boyardee is “secretly nutritious.” What now?)

As I commented there, I’m not a fan of the stealth vegetable (or, in this case, stealth fruit, since technically avocado is a fruit). Sure, put spinach in your brownies or carrots in your pasta sauce, but don’t hide that fact. Tell your kids what’s in their food so they can learn to love vegetables on their merits. Otherwise you send the message that vegetables are something to be endured instead of enjoyed. (You also enable that dreaded picky eater business.)

But what do you think? Is there really harm in hiding veggies? Can that hinder a child’s ability to appreciate new foods? Or is it no big deal? And, really, do real-life kids ever hate vegetables as much as TV kids?

On that note, I’ll leave you with one of the Chef Boyardee commercials. Separate from the example Little Stomaks posted, there’s a new series on the company’s website. Here’s the one that annoys me the most:

A note about videos: Spoonfed has turned into video central lately. We’ve had 11-year-old Birke Baehr’s amazing speech, news about vanishing bees and a discussion about junk food as heroin. And of course a little love from Jamie Oliver. It’s feeling a little like YouTube lately, which is fun for awhile, but I wouldn’t want to make a habit of it. So not to worry. Video-free posts on the way.

And a note about Jamie Oliver: The Guardian has a terrific article this week about JO, his critics and his crusade for better school food. It’s long, but well worth the read. Candid, salty, spot-on. Love him or hate him (and, frankly, I don’t get the haters), we’d all be better off if more people cared even half as much about what we feed our kids.

This post is linked into Real Food Wednesdays, Fight Back Fridays, Vegetarian Foodie Fridays and Wholesome Whole Foods.

My kind of carnival: Healthy kids. No fried dough.

Christina — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 17:39:42 +0000

A new Spoonfed post is coming very soon. (So much for stockpiling posts before vacation.) In the meantime, I’m participating in a new monthly blog carnival sponsored by Healthy Child Healthy World, a non-profit that is all about protecting kids from chemicals where they live, play and learn (food included).

This month’s theme, “Splendor in the Grass,” explores ways to inspire kids to connect with nature, sans pesticides and other nasties. My contribution is a recent post called “Clean food and dirty kids,” about how mood-boosting bacteria (found only in healthy, organic soil) is a good reason for kids to get up close and personal with their food. Other bloggers submitted posts on everything from non-toxic lawns to backyard habitats. Here’s the full list. And a few of my favorites:

“The most expensive egg we’ll ever eat” is Rookie Moms’ riff on the family’s new chickens.
Adventures with Three Girls takes on green yards and a weed-eater named Delilah.
Almost All the Truth tackles two words: muddy kids.
(Apparently I have a thing for chickens.) Mommy Goes Green talks safe lawns and the wonders of something called Chickity Doo Doo.

For more on Healthy Child Healthy World and how even small changes can make a big difference, check out the group’s video, “A Wake-Up Story”:

Clean food and dirty kids

Christina — Wed, 30 Jun 2010 09:04:50 +0000

Strawberry fields forever

There came a moment during strawberry-picking last week when the 6-year-olds decided they’d had enough. While the grown-ups continued busily picking a flat apiece, my daughter and her friend snuck off to the shade for a drink and a snack. Then the girls plopped themselves in the dirt and set to work, drawing roads and concocting stories about the imaginary travelers at the ends of their sticks.

I’ve always thought playing in dirt makes kids happy because it’s messy. And sensory. And because kids aren’t hung up on being clean and smelling good and worrying what others think. All they know is that dirt is transformative. Literally, from dust to mud. Figuratively, from strawberry patch to fairy highway.

Yes and, apparently, no.

Plenty of research over the last decade and more has shown how kids benefit from gardening and other time spent in nature.* They’re more confident, patient, responsible and compassionate. They know (and care) more about food and the environment. They learn more easily. Some of that is simple exposure to living, growing things. But a lot of it is the freedom, fresh air and physical activity that lets little brains and bodies find their groove.

Healthy soil, happy kid

Now we have studies on the effects of contact with dirt itself. But not just any dirt. Garden dirt. Farm dirt. Soil. The rich, healthy, organic stuff. Because that’s the kind of dirt that contains a bacteria called Mycobacterium vaccae, a bug that’s been getting a lot of attention. A 2007 study found that M. vaccae increases serotonin — the brain’s feel-good chemical — and decreases anxiety. A new study, out last month, reports that M. vaccae’s mood-boosting properties make it easier to learn new things. Get M. vaccae on your hands, inhale it while you dig — even eat some on freshly harvested lettuce — and the research says you’ll feel more relaxed, alive, alert.

Studies or not, that kind of makes sense, you know? When I think about how my daughter responds to plants and soil, how she both lights up and calms down, it does seem as though something biological is at work. I feel it, too, when I garden bare-handed with dust in my lungs and dirt up my nose. All of which has me newly appreciating the attraction of children to dirt. And the importance of getting kids outside, not just to play, but to plant or pick and otherwise connect in a direct way with their food.

I’m a longtime and serious — though now seriously lapsed — flower gardener, but I haven’t delved as deeply into edible gardening as I’d hoped. Partly that’s time, and partly it’s the abundance here in western New York and the gratitude I feel for the farmers who supply our food. We usually have a few tomatoes and herbs, some beans or peas potted up at school, a tiny patch of resilient raspberries, and the occasional squash or pumpkin that springs from the compost pile. But mostly we’re happy to just reap the benefits of what the farmers do best.

: Waiting for tomatoes. (But why the gloves?)

That means we spend a lot of time picking berries and apples, harvesting vegetables during CSA work days, and of course shopping the farmers’ markets. But whether we’re planting-tending-harvesting ourselves, or just arriving at the end of the line, we’re getting to know our food. And that, I think, is what counts.

And because that counts, it’s tempting to wonder what else our kids might gain when we introduce them to food from the source. Yes, they’ll learn about plants and animals and the fact that real food comes from somewhere, not from some place. And they’ll appreciate (we hope) the idea of building community and supporting practices that keep people and the planet healthy.

But what if connecting with agriculture also makes kids feel good about themselves? What if getting their hands dirty makes them happy even beyond the messiness of it? Psychology Today called all this bacteria-assisted communing with food and soil a return to “our optimal habitat.” Sounds about right to me.

How do your kids become one with dirt? With their food? Have you felt that soil-happy high?

*For research summaries, see Cornell University’s Garden-Based Learning program and the Children & Nature Network.

This post is linked into Foodie Tots’ Local Potluck Tuesdays, Real Food Wednesdays, Fight Back Fridays, Food Revolution Fridays, Vegetarian Foodie Fridays and Wholesome Whole Foods.

As of July 20, this post also is part of the Healthy Child Blog Carnival, an effort by the non-profit Healthy Child Healthy World to inspire a movement to protect children from harmful chemicals. More details in this post.

Let’s ban the phrase “picky eater”

Christina — Tue, 13 Apr 2010 10:30:40 +0000

It goes like this: Kids are picky eaters. They won’t eat food that’s green, brown or good for them. They are strong-willed little creatures who cannot be swayed. We must give up, give in, and feed them nothing but juice, crackers and white-bread sandwiches with the crusts cut off.

Sigh. Is anyone else as tired of the term “picky eater” as I am?

To be clear: I understand that many children have serious food allergies or sensory issues that make them painfully averse to certain foods. But that’s something else entirely. And even then, I’d argue that calling them “picky eaters” diminishes these children’s very real challenges.

It’s a phrase that has been overused to the point of cliche, becoming a catch-all and crutch whenever a child refuses something new or a parent is too tired to argue (been there) or when a fast-food stop or children’s menu is the quickest path to appeasement. Food manufacturers and cookbook publishers have gotten rich persuading parents to sate kids’ picky appetites by feeding them vitamin-fortified junk or hiding spinach in their brownies.

But I just can’t get on board with that. Real, whole foods (not jacked-up semblances) are the best source of nutrients. And if you want to put veggies in your baked goods, go for it. Maybe even hold off on the truth if you really think your kid will balk at tasting it. But then fess up and point out why spinach is a good thing even when it’s not in a brownie.

Young children go on strikes (refusing certain foods) and jags (eating only certain foods). Older kids have the added influence of marketing and friends. And all kids — and adults — have foods they just don’t like. I get that. I also understand that it sometimes takes finessing to get kids to embrace good food. But that starts with educating kids, not labeling them “picky” and throwing up our hands.

To that end, I’d like to highlight a few cooking/eating resources that I think get it right:

Food with Kid Appeal, a blog written by Jenna Pepper, a mother of two, is spot-on in its message that kids should be taught how food affects their bodies. Jenna offers really good, low-fuss recipes, but her real strength is the companion advice that relates each recipe’s ingredients to how kids grow and develop. This mushroom post is a great example. (Though how ironic that when I went to check these links, I saw she’d just written a post about… picky eaters. At least it’s about “recovering” picky eaters.)

This Eat Real round-up from Liz Snyder, a mom and food activist, is one of the smartest and most useful pieces I’ve seen on raising healthy eaters. I’m not sure how active or updated the rest of her site is, but this list is timeless. It’s long, but worth the read.

Everyone talks about how letting kids help in the kitchen will turn them into lifelong foodies. Sounds great, but we all know the reality can be messy and frustrating. That’s why I like this short post from Jamie Martin at Steady Mom. (One tip: When baking, give your child her own bowl and small amounts of each ingredient. Genius.)

Speaking of cooking, ChopChop, a new magazine founded by cookbook author Sally Sampson, packages healthy recipes and food facts in an appealing, readable quarterly aimed at kids ages 5-12. I have a few quibbles, notably the recommendation to use canola oil (which is almost always genetically modified and not nearly as healthful as olive oil, which the magazine also suggests), and the emphasis on skim milk (junk food, not saturated fat, is the problem). But the debut issue also features an interview with Orren Fox, the young chicken farmer I mentioned in a post last month. (It helps that Orren is interviewed by Susan Orlean, one of my favorite writers, and apparently a chicken farmer herself.) Overall the magazine is a great resource sending the right message: Kids will eat real food.

What do you think about this picky-eater business? Time to retire that tired phrase? Any other resources to recommend?

With this post, I’m participating in Real Food Wednesdays and Fight Back Fridays, where bloggers come together to post links on topics related to eating and learning about real food.

Dyeing to know: Easter egg science lesson

Christina — Fri, 02 Apr 2010 20:09:01 +0000

Beets and blueberries

Of all the food additives and ingredients that make me sweat, food coloring is the worst. Because, you see, it’s all about looks. Food manufacturers don’t claim that artificial colors improve the “integrity of food and beverage products,” as they do with high-fructose corn syrup. (Seriously. Read this.) They don’t claim that fake colors help preserve food or improve texture or boost flavor. No. For all the semantic gymnastics required to justify other questionable ingredients, manufacturers’ case for fake food coloring comes down to this: It makes food look good.

Fake food, that is. Like “fruit” snacks that get their color not from the product’s fruit concentrate, but from synthetic chemicals named Red 40, Yellow 5 and Blue 1. Or mac & cheese colored with Yellow 5 and Yellow 6. Or the countless packaged foods that use color to simulate the presence of actual fruits and vegetables. Even some oranges are treated with Citrus Red 2 to intensify the orange color. Oranges colored with fake orange. Jaw-dropper.

Forget that artificial colors have been linked* to hyperactivity, learning difficulties and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. (Effects noted as long ago as the 1970s and as recently as 2007.) Or that some research connects food dyes with cancer and other health problems. Or that the U.K. Food Standards Agency** (which funded the 2007 study) encourages parents and manufacturers to avoid food dyes, a move that prompted the European Parliament to require dye warning labels.

No. If that bright blue or pink makes someone want to buy it — and preferably a 3-foot-tall someone — then job well-done.

And get this: Those changes in Europe led some U.S. food companies to drop (cheap) fake dye in favor of (expensive) natural colors in products it sells overseas, but not here at home. Infuriating, right?

Last year, Blue 1
Next year, red cabbage

No surprise, then, that we try really hard to avoid food dyes. If I tell my daughter “there’s artificial color in this,” she knows her chances of eating it are slim. There’s one big exception, and that’s her birthday cake. It’s the only time I put my cake-decorating class to good use, so those colors had better be Disney perfect, and I’ve had lousy luck getting natural colorings to work consistently with frosting. Not anymore, though: A friend just turned me on to the India Tree brand, so next birthday I’m going all-natural.

I’ve been beating this drum for so long that Tess knows artificial colors are bad for her. She has moments when only the most brightly colored crack will do, but often she realizes after a bite or two that just because something is pretty doesn’t mean it tastes good. Still, I kept wishing there was some way to make the issue more tangible for her.

Which brings me (finally) to my eggsperiment. It’s Easter. Time to color eggs. Why not use fruits and vegetables to dye them naturally? And have a little plant-science lesson on the side? Out came the neon dye tablets leftover from last year. (We dyed. We did not eat.) Then the test tubes from a science kit. Plop, plop, fizz, fizz — oh what a fake color that is.

Me to Tess: “Have you ever seen colors like that in nature?”

Tess: a dutiful grimace and shake of the head.

On to the stove, where we filled pots with eggs, water and various fruits, vegetables and juices. (Here’s where I direct you to folks more kitchen-crafty than me, so you, too, can experience the joy of boiling eggs along with beets and blueberry juice.)

We used brown eggs (instead of the recommended white eggs), so the colors were unpredictable. The beets produced a warm dark brown. Spinach didn’t take at all. The blueberry juice, however, made a deep purple that got a “cool” out of my daughter. And because she really wants pink eggs, we’re going to try another batch with raspberry or pomegranate juice.

As each pot filled with the color of the cooking produce, we talked about how plants have so many beautiful natural colors and how each color represents nutrients our bodies need. With color extracts literally seeping into the water, there was no question at all where they came from, or that we can find all the color we need without putting on a lab coat.

Not that Tess was entirely sold. She’s since informed me that she wants to go back to the fake dyes “because I like the pretty colors.” But, she added (insert dramatic pause), “we don’t have to eat them.”

What’s your stance on artificial colors? And how have you explained it to your kids?

* The Center for Science in the Public Interest has urged the U.S. Food and Drug Administration to ban food dyes and is collecting personal stories to share with legislators.

** The European Food Safety Authority, an independent agency, took a more conservative approach. But it plans to re-evaluate all colors by mid-2011.