First, never let them get hungry, that’s when disaster strikes. Children are committed to their routines and vacations can seem like chaos. As adults, we’re able to regulate the emotions associated with hunger most of the time, so when we sit down with a burger after not eating for seven hours, we devour it instead of throwing the bun against the restaurant wall watching the ketchup slick and streak as the bun slides down to the floor, all while tears stream down our faces.
Kids aren’t that lucky. Being hungry makes them angry. So, the burger is no longer the solution to their problem, it is the enemy. And so are you.
Keep them fueled with smoothies or a chicken kabob between meals. Let them try the steamed pork buns you got. They might not like them but the slight uptick in calories will help once delayed mealtime rolls around.
On our first day in Chicago, we stopped at Portillo’s, a Chicago staple. It’s a casual place that started as a hot dog stand and has risen to iconic Chicagoland staple fare, expanding the menu to burgers and Italian beef. We put in our orders at the kiosks, collected our receipts, and waited for our order.
This stop was risky, we hadn’t even checked into our hotel and we were fresh off an hour-long tour of Frank Lloyd Wright’s house in Oak Park. But, the car snacks tied everyone over and our order was ready quickly.
A woman was struggling with her 18-month-old baby as we settled into the table next to her. They were both sweaty, tired, hungry, and likely out of stroller snacks. Only one of them was having a complete breakdown. And while it wasn’t the mother, she was practicing some deep breathing techniques.
The dad was in line with the older daughter. The distressed mom pulled item after item out of her diaper bag, all failed attempts at entertainment and distraction.
I made eye contact with her and smiled. She smiled a tight, frustrated smile in return. I wanted to tell her you don’t get to where I am, at a table with four 10- to 17-year-olds laughing and unwrapping their sandwiches without being where she is.
Instead, I picked up the small piece of bread that came with my daughter’s salad, still wrapped in a wax paper baggy and offered it to her,
“Here, will she eat this?” I asked.
“Oh my god, thank you. Our order is taking forever. I’m so sorry, she’s probably ruining your dinner.”
“Are you kidding me? I can barely hear it and to be honest, I sometimes kinda miss it.”
She gave me a doubtful smirk.
She unwrapped the bread and passed it to her daughter, and for 4 minutes had a bit of peace. The dad returned with the food, and just as she was unwrapping her sandwich, the older daughter needed to be taken to the bathroom. Off they went.
Second, they’re not allowed to order off the kids’ menu. They can order the most simple dish on the menu but it can’t be chicken tenders and fries.
If we’re in Chinatown, they’re trying gyozas. If we’re at a famous chili or barbecue spot, they’re not eating a PB-&-J.
Here’s the thing, a kid’s palette is never going to expand if they’re able to stick to a diet of beige food. This effort is not for me, ultimately, it’s for them. What an incredible world of flavors that would miss them if they were always flipping to the kids’ mac and cheese at the end of the menu?
Make sure to order something for the table that you’re sure they will eat. A side of edamame, some onion rings or a basic fry. Something they can snack on if they end up hating their meal.
The mom at Portillo’s kept smiling over at our table, admiring our easy way, maybe even longing for it. My daughter bit into her first Italian beef and while the peppers were too spicy, she finished it up. We reviewed our meals, laughed at our disheveled post road trip appearances, pondered desserts, and talked about past adventures.
Finally, do not force the finish. Commend the trying but if that’s where it ends, move on. Let them eat the fries, buy them an ice cream and try again next time. Odds are they will find something they love. The less drama surrounding new foods and mealtime the better.
At the end of our meal, we cleaned up our table and I turned as we were leaving, “it gets easier.” It does, but you have to keep eating, keep trying, exploring, traveling, eating, pushing through the moments of discomfort. As with most things, the good stuff lies on the other side. For them and for us.
“But First, Food” columnist Whitney Kling is a recipe developer who lives in Southwest Ohio with her four kids, two cats and a food memoir that’s ever-nearing completion. If she’s not playing tennis or at a yoga class, she’s in the kitchen creating something totally addictive — and usually writing about it.
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