Food For Thought; Thoughts On Food

I've been thinking about food a lot recently. Not necessarily about specific recipes and meals but rather about how food is produced, how and where we buy our food and what it all means. Food is one of life's necessities that everyone, regardless of where we live, our race or socio-economic status, individual likes or dislikes, needs to survive. Some people have an abundance of food while others regularly go hungry. Some people live to eat while others eat to live. Simply put, food is something we all need and rely upon for our survival. Because of this food should be the great equalizer but sadly, it is not. Rather attitudes towards food and access to food are often the issues that divide us the most.

The topic in my French class for the past few weeks has been food. In learning the words for various types of food, we've been discussing how and where to shop for items both locally and in our home countries. Half of my class if comprised of Americans with the other half hailing from a mix of European countries. Although I was already aware of this on some level, it was quickly reaffirmed that so many Europeans shop for their food in local markets whereas us Americans tend to rely on supermarkets and big box stores for our daily nourishment. Urban areas can be food deserts and community markets, filled with organic produce are much more sporadic and difficult to find, are often located in more affluent neighborhoods and have prices that put the freshest of fruits and vegetables out of reach for many consumers. I'm a huge fan of the farm share trend but the often significant financial layout required to "buy in" to them at the beginning of the season makes them cost prohibitive for many American families. Class conversations quickly made it apparent that the differences between food resourcing in America and in Europe and what and how we eat are as far apart as the ocean that separates us.

Above all, as humans we seem to be creatures of habit. We crave the familiar and seek it out. More often than not we want, no demand, convenience. This probably explains why so many American military families posted overseas actively seek out their military commissaries (a.k.a. grocery stores stocked with all of the conveniences and foods from home) for a little piece of well traveled, overly processed comfort food from home. It is familiar, it is comfortable and it is how we most likely shopped and ate back home. If we grew up in households where convenience foods were the norm odds are we live the same was as adults. If we grew up eating fresh vegetables instead of canned, enjoyed home cooked meals eaten around the dinner table and had sugary snacks were kept at a minimum, we are probably recreating that lifestyle in our own homes. If our parents cooked we are more likely to cook ourselves. Perhaps this is why eating and shopping local remains the norm in Europe since the tradition of village markets, local farms and family dinner being events for all ages are the norm rather than a trend. This may be a broad sweeping statement on my part but I in my experience, access to quality food is less of a class issue in Europe than it is in America. I  feel as though quality food for people from all walks of live is valued much more in Europe than it is in America. I love that about Europe and it makes me feel a bit sad about America.

And that brings me to where I am now. Shopping "like a European" is a habit that I have fallen in love with and am increasingly practicing in my own household. With two different expansive markets held in my neighborhood each week and others held in neighboring towns daily, shopping at these local markets is the easiest food option for me. And as I sit here and type this, I have homemade pizza dough rising for tonight's dinner. The flour and yeast were purchased at my local Belgian supermarket but the toppings--fresh cheese, locally made sausage, fresh artichokes, tomatoes and herbs--were all purchased at my local market. For the most part I know where my food came from--here in Belgium as well as neighboring France and the Netherlands. It is local and fresh and minimally processed. And this is how my family eats on most days. The source of  my food is important to me and regardless of where I am living, I will go out of my way to buy from fresh and local sources.

But all of my food choices are clearly ones of class and privilege. I have the means, both financially and time wise, to decide where and how I will shop. I can afford to shop for locally grown organic produce, which here in Europe is often cheaper than mass produced and imported items. And because I am currently living in Europe all of this great quality food is literally sitting at my doorstep. I am also quite positive that once we are back in America we will continue to shop and eat the way we do now. If that means trekking out to a farm to buy organic milk or buying into a farm share each spring, it is something that I will do.

Food Issues

I subscribe to too many magazines for my own good. Most months I scan the pages seeking out a new recipe or a potential travel destination and that is about it. Rarely do I read a full article but a recent piece in Cooking Light magazine caught my eye and had me reading the article in its entirety (twice). The author, Ann Taylor Pitman, is the magazine's Executive Food Editor and the mother of now 8 year old twin boys who were born prematurely at 29 weeks. While the picture of her fragile twins is what first caught my eye and gave me flashbacks to my own tiny baby, it was her discussion of food and nourishment that had me reading each page. Here was a lover of food, someone who incorporated this love into both her personal and professional lives, who was struggling to feed her children and give them the nourishment they needed. Her words rang so many bells with me and reading Pitman's words I was once again reminded of the close link between nutrition and one's health and the struggles that often ensue when the two meet.

I consider myself lucky when it comes to food and eating. Because I love just about all food and am always willing to try new things, eating a balanced diet seems to come naturally to me. I rarely diet, never eliminate any one food or food group from my diet but rather eat all of the things I like in moderation. I prefer unprocessed foods to their pre-packaged counterparts and as I grow older, my sweet tooth has been subsiding. I practiced this type of eating both before and during (as well as after) my pregnancy. In my mind it was a give in that I would breast feed rather than relying on formula, baby food would be homemade and my son would have the same love and curiosity about food that I do. A mother can dream, right?

But life rarely turns out as planned. The idea of breastfeeding flew out the window with Sidney's early birth and while my plentiful supply made bottle fed breast milk a viable option, his doctors wanted it to be fortified with formula. I should have known then that I would be spending the next several years trying to pack as many calories as possible into my son. Reflux made feedings both unpleasant and take twice as long as they should have been and he was slow to take to solid foods. But once Sidney discovered the pleasures of solid food he simply couldn't get enough. I worked overtime making purees of organic fruits, vegetables and meats and he loved them all. Friends introduced him to venison sausages when he wasn't quite a year and a half and he loved them. While the same friends bemoaned their three year old daughter's desire to only eat a handful of plain pasta at each meal I relished the fact that my son finally had an appetite. He was still small but he could eat so my mind raced ahead to the wonderful family meals we would be able to enjoy together.

Unfortunately, as with all things children, Sidney's love of new foods came to a halt as quickly as it had taken off. Fast forward a year and he was the one requesting plain pasta at every meal. Hotdogs, one of the few foods that I all but refuse to eat, were acceptable on occasion if they were first drowned in ketchup. Chicken, beef and lamb were no-gos as was any creature that comes from the water. I spent countless hours trying to entice my son with new foods only to be met with such resistance that I felt perpetually defeated. I worried about his nutrition and the fact that he was still the smallest kid around. But honestly, I was the most horrified by the fact that my son essentially hated the one thing that I loved so much. Food. I mean, how is that even possible? Refusing to give up I became adept at hiding the nutrition in those foods he would eat. Pizza was usually acceptable so homemade pies, loaded with vegetable enriched sauce and red peppers (yes, for some reason he loves raw red peppers) became a weekly menu item. A trip to Italy introduced Sidney to Bolognese sauce so I would make vats of that, again loaded with lean meat and tons of vegetables. And the experiments continued with mixed but often unsatisfactory results.

I know kids go through phases and can often be picky but as a parent I struggle with finding the balance between making sure he is eating a balanced diet and not wanting to force things on him that the truly doesn't like. Although it is getting better, all too often the dinner table becomes an unpleasant experience and the last thing I want to do is to instill a dislike of food and mealtime on him. In my mind food is something that should be enjoyed and celebrated. But even as a food loving person I can't quite figure out how to make this work. Cooking only foods on his "acceptable" list is simply unacceptable to me as is making two separate dinners each night.

So how do I find a balance? Sidney provides input into our weekly dinner menus so there are at least two dinners each week that he has selected. Yes, it often involves pizza or pasta but I add a few vegetables into the mix and we end up with a well balanced meal that goes down without tears. I take full advantage of his wandering into the kitchen, sniffing and stating that something smells good. I'm quick to show him what is cooking and talk about the various ingredients that I know he likes. I know Sidney doesn't like his foods mixed together but when I deconstruct the stew before putting it on his plate he will (usually) eat it all. We also have the "five bite rule" where he must eat at least five bites of each item on his plate. I also recognize that there are some things he simply doesn't like. Leafy green salads are currently on that list so when those are the vegetable du jour Sidney gets a plate of cut up raw carrots and red peppers. I'm picking my battles. I still worry about his being so small and wish he would eat a greater variety of food. I'm encouraged that he is trying new things; peer pressure from school has had him requesting both avocados and mushrooms recently. He didn't like them but he did tell me that at least he tried them. And that is progress. Maybe I'll make a foodie out of him yet. I can hope.......

Food Fights

Food; we all need it to live. But do you eat to live or live to eat? In my family, depending upon the day, we are a bit of both. I love good food and since I am the cook in the family won't hesitate to spend hours in the kitchen perfecting the perfect dish or full blown meal. I actually find all of the tinkering and experimenting to be relaxing but when the cooking is done, I like to sit down, relax and enjoy my meal. Unfortunately, this doesn't always happen. Rather food is alternatively inhaled with gusto or pushed around on plates; often before I've even had my first bite......so frustrating but part of my food reality. So this leads to my desire to eat to live with simple and easy dishes gracing our table.

So how do I please everyone's culinary desires? Many times it comes down to the issue of how many dinners can I make on a single night. Do I make three separate meals, as I've done a few times recently, two or a single modified one where we all must either eat what is in front of us or go without dinner? My inclination is to go with the later but as a food lover, the thought of all of us being unsatisfied at the end of the meal is downright discouraging. Three balanced meals is simply too much work so our dinners tend to fall somewhere along the lines of option number two. I try to find foods that we will all enjoy but sometimes it is just so hard. I love fish and seafood, just about every vegetable I've ever encountered and am always game for trying something new. The boys in my family....not so much.

Our family food battles used to be confined to our home. Last year I sent Sidney to school where four days a week he was served a varied and nutritious Belgian lunch. (I still provided a nutritious snack). He didn't always like what was put on this plate but under the pressure of his Madame he was at least trying new foods. And much to our delight there were foods he never would have tried at home that he actually ended up liking at school. But gradually I began to hear complaints. Other kids got to bring their own lunches. According to Sidney, they got to eat chips and cookies and drink soda for lunch and he wanted to do the same. On occasion Sidney would bring a home baked cookie as a snack but he wanted plastic wrapped Hostess treats instead. After all, that is what all of the other (American) kids got to eat.

All summer long Sidney has been nagging me to be able to bring his own lunch to school this year. At camp this summer he brought his own lunch and he wanted to do the same for school. At camp however, every child brought healthy homemade lunches that made mine look like the unhealthy ones (yes, it was that type of camp and I loved it). As other parents are well aware, packing a daily lunch is a pain in the butt even when you don't have a fussy child. With a fussy one it is even worse. But Sidney wants to be like the other kids.....

So we've worked out a deal. Each week we will discuss the school lunch menu and Sidney can choose two days to eat school lunch and two days where he can bring his own. He's already informed me that he wants to eat school lunch whenever they serve fish, pasta or couscous. (Love this and it definitely tempers the rest of our food battles). As for the two days when I pack his lunch, I won't be delivering hot meals the way some of the Italian moms do. Rather, Sidney will carry it to school in his lunch box. The meals will be healthy and balanced but include items he likes and will eat.  This summer Sidney discovered sandwiches so there will be plenty of those. He loves pizza so some weeks my homemade version may be included in his lunch box. Fresh fruit and vegetables will always be present and an occasional sweet treat might be there as well. Of course, the sweets will be home baked by me and won't come with shelf lives that will outlast the school year.

That is our food compromise. Do I anticipate more food battles? Absolutely. I know that some days the lunch box will return home untouched but others it will be empty. Dinners will remain an occasional battleground but I'll take the struggles as long as they accompany successes. New dishes will be on the menu on a regular basis and who knows, we might discover more foods that we all enjoy. After all, you have to eat to live but living to eat makes the experience all the better.

Table For One

Dining alone. Have you ever done it? I'm not talking about drinking your latte while you read a book at Starbucks, grabbing a quick bite to eat at a casual dining establishment or eating at the restaurant bar. I'm talking about perhaps making a reservation for a table for one then sitting down at a properly set table, ordering off the menu then leisurely eating your meal without turning to your iPhone or e-reader for companionship. Scary isn't it? Yes and no.

I used to be terrified of eating alone. The coffee shop with a book in hand was OK but anything beyond that was too much for me to handle. When I traveled for work I would resort to room service or perhaps eating at the hotel bar--not a table in the bar area mind you but the actual bar. Anything else felt like too much of a spectacle. I mean what if people looked at me and wondered what was wrong with me for not having a dining companion?

But then this got old. Whether traveling or in my home community I wanted to eat good food and didn't always having dining companions to join me. So I took the plunge and partook in my first solo dinner in public. I was traveling for work and room service didn't excite me. The hotel bar only served pub food and besides, I had read about a great restaurant in the city that I really wanted to try. I didn't know anyone and rather than skip what turned out to be a great meal, I went to the restaurant by myself. I had planned on eating at the bar but when the hostess lead me to a two-top table in the dining room, I followed her. At first I was a bit uncomfortable about sitting by myself but as I looked around I noticed that there were several other solo diners in the room. Some were reading but others were simply sitting and eating. If they could do it, so could I. And I did and found myself enjoying the food and the freedom of not having to carry on a conversation. It wasn't so hard after all. Then I started eating alone when I was at home. If I wanted to try a place and no one else was interested in joining me, I went by myself. As funny as this may sound, being able to eat out by myself was a completely liberating experience.

I'm a frequent follower of Tom Sietsema's weekly food chat in the Washington Post where the subject of dining solo is a hot topic. Callers often complain about the service, or lack there of, they receive when they are eating alone in restaurants. Many share their experiences of being regulated to poorly located tables, pushed into the bar even though they have a table reservation or shoddy service from waitstaff. Often they feel undervalued as single diners with women experiencing this inequity more than men. Have I experienced this myself? Sadly I have. I've been seated in back corners or even worse, near the entrance to the restrooms. When I look around many dining rooms that is where the smaller tables are located. Perhaps these table placements help restaurants best maximize their table space. But other times I've been seated front and center in the middle of the dining room. Sometimes the service has been great and other times it has been abysmal but I'm not sure it is a reflection of my dining status or the restaurant itself. I tip according to the service I receive and if I don't enjoy the experience I am unlikely to go back. I have found that some places are more receptive to solo, and woman, diners that others. In Albania eating out by myself was met with confusion by waitstaff while here in Belgium I see many women doing it. This is particularly true for lunch when I've seen entire restaurants filled with solo female diners. In America, depending on location, I have found it to be a mixed bag. Ironically, I have found that the higher end the restaurant, the better the experience. Perhaps their waitstaff is just better schooled in service......

Now I find myself enjoying my solo meals and don't let my being alone stop me from eating where I please. When eating by myself I can choose the restaurant of my liking based solely on my own food preferences and cravings. I can eat as slowly or as quickly as I like and the only food I have to worry about cutting up is my own. Depending upon the establishment I may pull out my e-reader but increasingly I find myself not reading anything and using the opportunity to be absorbed in my own thoughts. Or I will people watch which in the right place can be more interesting than the best dinner companions. Yes, dining alone may feel intimidating at first but go ahead and give it a chance. You just might find that you enjoy it as much as I do.

Kitchen Dreams

I love food. It seems as though I spend a lot of time thinking about preparing meals and then eating them. And because I love to cook I spend even more time thinking about how and where I can prepare that food. When I am in my small European style galley kitchen I dream of what my ideal kitchen would look like. So when I was visiting Midcoast Maine and stumbled upon an advertisement for a kitchen tour featuring some of the best chefs in the area, I just knew I had to go. And I'm so glad I did because it provided me with an opportunity to sample some tasty food and see some beautiful houses and their kitchens. What more could a food lover ask for?

A annual fundraiser for Merryspring Nature Center, the event was organized in the same fashion as a garden tour; in this case the kitchens of nine houses were made available for visitors to tour. The locations and architecture were diverse as were the foods offered by the chefs at each location. The houses ranged from modern new construction and classic New England capes to the historic renovation of an 1802 Federalist home and everything in between. A couple of the kitchens were quite spacious while the rest were compact but well laid out proving that when it comes to kitchens, size doesn't always matter. Kitchens with a view were inspiring; I can't help but think that looking at the islands in the bay would make washing dishes much more pleasant. Stainless steel appliances are still popular but soapstone counter tops and solid cherry butcher blocks seem to have replaced granite as the current fad and after seeing several renditions, I must say I am now a fan. I was less fond of the white cabinetry that graced many of the kitchens; give me natural colored wood any day.

And of course there was the food. At each kitchen we were invited to sample tasty tidbits from local chefs. It had been awhile since I spent time in the area but judging by the creative array of offerings, the Midcoast dining scene has changed a lot in the past twenty or so years. It is black trumpet mushroom season in Maine with several dishes featuring this foraged food. I've been developing a taste for wild mushrooms and and amongst other dishes, loved the flat bread pizza and crostini featuring these wild mushrooms. And because this is Maine, seafood featured prominently in several of the dishes. All I can say is yum!

So did I see my dream home? Not really. But if nothing else I ended the day filled with lots of ideas about what I do and don't want in my future dream house. Did I eat some good food? Absolutely and I'm a bit disappointed that I won't have the opportunity to try out several of these restaurants. But I am planning on trying to recreate a few of the signature dishes in my tiny Belgian kitchen. If I close my eyes while I'm eating I just might be able to pretend that I'm back in one of those Maine kitchens enjoying the view.

Eating In Maine: A Book Review w/ A Touch Of Homesickness

Right about now I am feeling pretty homesick for Maine. Maybe it is the fact that it has been two years since I made a brief summer visit to the town where I grew up. Perhaps it is because we have another, much longer Maine trip looming on the horizon. Or perhaps it is the decidedly non- summer weather we have been experiencing here in Belgium that makes me crave a warm Maine summer day--the type that is cool and crisp in the morning and evening with just the right amount of heat in the middle of the day. Actually, I think it is the combination of all of the above. Add in the recent arrival of my long awaited Eating In Maine book by Maine food bloggers Jillian and Malcolm Bedell and I just can't wait to "go home." But that trip is still weeks away so in the meantime I've been fulfilling my Maine cravings with their book and enjoying every minute of it.

Now this isn't your ordinary cookbook; part travel guide and part restaurant reviews with 115 recipes (hence the cookbook part) and lots of personal commentary, it is everything I would expect from these two great bloggers. The unknowing might be surprised to learn that Maine has a burgeoning foodie scene but it does. I remember spending a considerable amount of time in Portland a few years ago and being surprised myself at the number of great, innovative restaurants that were available. (Hot Suppa was my go to lunch option during the month Sidney was in the hospital there). And the options aren't just limited to Portland. The Bedells capture these places in their book but also focus on the small, out of your way or casual (this picnic table) eateries that are Maine institutions.


In many respects reading this book (OK, drooling over the photographs) was a type of homecoming for me. Malcolm grew up in the same area as I did only a decade later. But his references to the Maine dining institutions brought all of the memories back for me. Pies at Moody's Diner (do you only get to choose one type?) and hot dogs cooked in peanut oil from Wasses Hot Dogs, (Glenn thought he had died and gone to heaven when I introduced him to this hot dog stand and to this day it is the first place we stop when we hit the Mid Coast area) are an important part of my childhood memories. And then you have Dysart's, the truck stop in Bangor, Maine where nothing tasted better than a hot open faced turkey sandwich after spending a week backpacking in Baxter State Park. These places aren't fancy and would probably be looked down upon by more sophisticated appetites but they are a part of my Maine experience. And then there are the recipes for whoopie pies and dishes that include Moxie. It really doesn't get more Maine than this.

This book not only leaves my feeling hungry but it has me wanting to both cook and eat out at the restaurants they recommend. I don't particularly care for lobster (I know, call me a bad Mainer) but the pictures, recipes and restaurant reviews have me craving a fresh lobster roll.  As for my other meals, I'm still undecided but the options really are limitless. In fact, in this day and age of e-readers, I'm going to allot some of my precious luggage weight to bringing this book to Maine with me. It may be too soon to start packing for the trip but I can certainly start planning my Maine meals and begin cooking my way through their recipes.

An American Diet

Belgian "fast food" : the rotisserie chicken truck
that makes regular appearances at all of the
local markets

I love food and one of the things I love about Belgium is the variety of interesting foods that are available to me. Belgians love their food; eating is an experience and this is reflected in the quality of the food around us. The importance of food is taught to children from birth and this is reflected in everything from school lunches to leisurely family meals. The local grocery stores and community markets are overflowing with food from all over the world. And as an American military family living in Belgium we have even more options when it comes to buying food since we also have access to the military commissary. Perhaps it is because I most recently lived in a country with limited food options (under no conceivable imagination were we food deprived, rather variety and our choices were simply limited) so some days when I think about it my choices simply overwhelm me. I know I am lucky in this respect.

When we first arrived here I was excited at the prospect of being able to shop at the commissary again. After all, the products were the familiar ones from home and familiarity breeds comfort. Or so I thought. But after shopping in European grocery stores and open air markets for a few years, even those offering less than stellar varieties of items, I found myself being underwhelmed by what I found. Produce, much of it having been imported to the United States before making its way to Belgium, looked old, lackluster, and unappetizing. And the "American" food that I thought I had been longing for? They weren't there. Instead the commissary shelves were filled with brightly colored American branded convenience foods that did little to whet my appetite. If I wanted anything from Old El Paso, Nabisco or any flavor so sports drink imaginable I would have been in luck. But I didn't. I was disappointed to say the least but quickly realized that the familiar products I had been longing for were actually the ones that I bought off of the shelves at Trader Joe's, Whole Foods, and the like and not your mainstream American grocery store. But then I took a step back and really started to explore the local stores (or "shopping on the economy" in military speak) and loved what I found.

Yes, with my rudimentary knowledge of French shopping in the local Carrefour or the village markets takes longer and has resulted, on more than one occasion, with my coming home with the wrong item, but what I do bring home just tastes so much better. Items that are supposed to be fresh are just that. Meats aren't pre-frozen, thawed and shrink wrapped in plastic, vegetables were harvested from the fields that morning. And when it comes to canned or boxed items the grocery store is filled with international foods and speciality items that one can only find in places like Whole Foods or Trader Joe's in the United States. With the assistance of Google Translate I realize that the canned items are free of so many of the preservatives and added sugars that are pervasive in many American brands. Here, these items are common place and because they aren't considered to be gourmet, they are relatively inexpensive. In a single aisle in my local Carrefour I can find imported items from Greece, Turkey, Poland and Africa plus Germany, Italy, Great Britain and France. And if I can't find it in the store I am sure to be able to locate it in one of the stalls at the outdoor market. When I think about it, I don't think I've ever not been able to find what I was looking for. Shopping, and eating, here is a true foodie's dream. And shopping at the commissary? Frankly I am a bit embarrassed by how poorly Americans seem to eat (since the food on the shelf is obviously being purchased I can only assume that it is being eaten) and no longer shop there on a regular basis. And the small section of "American" food at Carrefour? I avoid that too......

So all of this makes me wonder: do Americans really eat that poorly? I think many do but I'm not really sure why. Real foods often cost more that processed, prepackaged ones so economics does play a role in diets. In many inner city urban environments, fresh fruits and vegetables are harder to find making canned items that have long shelf lives more attractive. But what about the more affluent suburbs where grocery stores and fresh produce are readily available? Are Americans so busy that they can't take the time to cook a balanced and healthy dinner? Are consuming the food colorings, artificial flavors and preservatives that accompany so many pre-packaged foods worth the convenience of just opening a can and heating it in the microwave? Is there simply not a demand for high quality "real" foods? I find that a bit hard to believe but I'm not sure what else can explain it. In Europe, these real foods seem to be more the norm. Europe is after all, the birthplace of the Slow Food Movement. That isn't to say that Europeans don't eat processed foods; they do. They also eat their share of convenience foods but many times this convenience food is real food that is ready to eat. A stroll through the Sunday market in Mons reveals just this. Complete, ready cooked meats, pastas, and other dinners sit alongside their fresh and raw counterparts giving patrons the choice of how they want to buy their food. And if the packed market is any indication (it is always crowded whenever we visit), Belgians demand this quality. And I find myself demanding this quality as well.

Seasonal produce being sold at an open air market

All is not lost, or at least that is what I need to believe. People around the globe, the United States included, do care about food and the meals their families eat. It really is all a mindset and a reflection of what we are used to as a society. Change, whether positive or negative, doesn't happen over night so changing the way we eat and think about food is an ongoing work in progress. But where do we stand today? I think a recent article in the United Kingdom's Daily Mail says it best. The article made me pause and think and I hope it will do the same for you.

A Book Review: French Kids Eat Everything

After reading an earlier post about Sidney's food experiences at his new pre-school, a friend recommended that I read Karen Le Billon's book French Kids Eat Everything (the subtitle includes the explanation "how our family moved to France, cured picky eating, banned snacking, and discovered 10 simple rules for raising happy, healthy kids"). Although we are living in Belgium, she thought I would be able to relate to the food struggles Le Billon's family faced when they moved from British Columbia, Canada (North America) to western Europe. I had remembered hearing about the book when it was first published a couple of years ago but never read it since I was blessed at the time with a child who ate absolutely everything. Fast forward two years and now the topic of children's culinary habits is especially timely so I decided to give the book a go. And am I glad I did since, as a mother of an increasingly picky and food adverse per-schooler, it struck so many cords with me.

Le Billon is a self-professed picky eater with a French husband and two young daughters who uproots her family from urban Vancouver to spend a year in the rural French village where her husband grew up. While she spoke French her children didn't and the family's complete immersion into French village life is the focus of the book. But it is food and the family's relationship with food that is really the central theme throughout the book. Le Billon quickly discovered that everything about food, from the purchasing and harvesting of it, to its preparation and consumption is completely different in a French village than it is in urban North America. Much like I discovered upon enrolling Sidney in school, Le Billon quickly found that school lunches in France are not your standard American cafeteria fare. The lunches, like most French meals, are social experiences, or as the principal of the school told her, learning experiences for the young children. To many Americans the meals appear to be too sophisticated, complex, and unappetizing for young palates. Or at least they did to Le Billon. Despite her protests, and much to the chagrin of her husband and in-laws, Le Billon attempted to convince the school that her children needed to snack, required choices in what they ate for lunch, and essentially could not comply with the school's food rules. Her argument was a non-starter with everyone around her and her girls, while initially reluctant to adjust to their new environment, soon flourished in their food focused community.

But for me, this book is about so much more than a single family's experience with culture shock; I found it to be both eye opening and reaffirming that food can and does play a pivotal role in every aspect of our lives regardless of how or where we live and what we choose to eat. But let me just say that I know food and dietary beliefs are extremely personal  issues where people will always disagree about what are the right and wrong things to eat. I know that yet too often find myself going down the slippery slope of being judgmental about what others eat and feed their children. I'm trying to be better about this but like all habits, this one is hard to break. And I am by no means in perfect on this front. In fact, I wish my family and I ate healthier, more balanced meals ourselves.

I've always loved food--preparing it, eating it, reading and learning about it--and have tried to bring my love for it into our home. Always one to make as many of our meals as possible from scratch, when Sidney was born I had the best of intentions to make all of his baby food myself, limit processed ingredients, and generally avoid convenience foods. I did make much of his baby food myself but did succumb on occasion to buying the pre-made jarred mush. One whiff and I was reminded why I wanted to be making my own. By the time he moved onto solid foods, much to my delight, Sidney was eating everything with gusto. I remember being especially proud when  at age 18 months he ate not one, but two homemade venison sausages. Our friend who had made them was equally impressed since at the time, his three year old daughter only ate small quantities of plain pasta. I naively thought my son had inherited my love of food and envisioned years of peaceful meal times and creative dinners in our future. Fast forward a year and a half and it was my turn to have the only plain pasta eating child. Dinner times became battlefields and what had once been the highlight of my day became a time I dreaded. In an effort to diversify Sidney's diet, or at least eat anything since the kid is so darn skinny, I went down the rabbit hole I had vowed to avoid, and started serving processed foods, convenience items, and ordering off of the incredibly unhealthy kid's menu in restaurants. And I soon found out, once you start down this path, it is really difficult to go back.

That is what Le Billon learned and that is what I am now facing on a daily basis. Whereas French children are introduced to a variety of foods from an early age, American children tend to have blander and less varied diets. Changing these acquired tastes of opinionated pre-schoolers who are used to eating what they want when they want it, is a painful process. For my son and many other children like him, foods deemed the wrong color or shape, new, or simply different are dismissed in favor of the good old standby of plain pasta. (I'll admit, one of the reasons I love traveling in Italy is that pasta is on ever menu making mealtimes a pain free events). Most evenings I make flavorful homemade dinners and find myself facing either the struggle of forcing Sidney to eat it amid loud complaints, his going hungry, or capitulating and feeding him more plain pasta. I look on with envy when I see other children digging in to their dinners without complaints and silently wish the same for our family.

But Sidney's school lunches are giving me hope. All of the children sit down together for a meal that is eaten off of real dishes with real silverware. They sit patiently at the table and don't leave until the appointed meal time is over. Napkins are used to wipe up the inevitable spills (although Sidney comes home surprisingly clean). As was the case for Le Billon's children, new vegetables are introduced in the form of a soup at the beginning of each meal. Since Sidney doesn't eat a lot of vegetables at home, if he is drinking them at school, I'm not going to complain. Yes, I may be taking the easy way out by having someone else force new foods upon him, but from what I am hearing, Sidney is trying and many times, enjoying these new foods. I'm not sure whether it is the peer pressure of eating what his classmates eat or the desire to please his teachers, but if Sidney is trying new foods, I don't really care how he does it. When he tells me he likes something I am quick to replicate it for our own dinners. Sometimes he'll eat it and other times he won't but I feel as though this is progress. But it would appear that the French method of feeding children just might work.

I hung on to every one of Le Billon's words describing her children's experiences with food since they resonated with me in an all too true fashion. I may have disagreed with her initial self-rightous attitude towards the French school having to cater to her children's food desires but I secretly found myself agreeing with her reasoning behind her arguments. But I also saw the other side of the argument and that one gives me hope for my own son and my own family. It made me think about the differences between typical American attitudes towards food and those of our current home in Belgium and yes, our former home in Albania. They are as varied as the countries themselves and I can see how my own food attitudes have been influenced by all of these environments. This isn't good nor is it bad; it is just the way it is. But, as Le Billon's experience attests to, part of living in a new culture is experiencing that culture and food is an incredible and necessary way to do so. With that in mind, I hope to make the most of our time here in Belgium.

A Belgian (Pre-School) Lunch

Typical of most children, my son gives me mono-syllable answers when it comes to what he did at school each day. When I ask specific questions I may or may not get responses and when he does choose to answer, many times I'm not quite sure what he is talking about. And because the school is a French immersion one, where his teacher speaks a limited amount of English, I am left grappling to figure out what actually goes on during the day. Granted, important notices, such as the chicken pox alert that came out on his second day there, are translated into (poor) English but the majority of the information is only in French. I may have taken a few years of French way back when in high school but most of the language has now faded to a distant memory meaning I find myself relying on Google Translate to decipher a lot of what goes on during Sidney's day.

Lunch is a prime example of this. We were presented with a monthly lunch menu on Sidney's first day but much to my chagrin it was written solely in French. At a quick glance I could see that each meal was balanced with fruits, vegetables, starches, and meats but that was about it. Sidney was very little help simply stating, upon persistent inquiry, that he didn't eat because he didn't like what was set before him. When I would ask him what it was, with the exception of pasta, he simply says he doesn't know. I have repeatedly encouraged him to at least try a bite of everything because he might discover something he likes. I didn't think my suggestion sunk in but I hoped it had none the less.

But last Friday, during his daily after school drilling about lunch Sidney had a different response. He said that he had eaten lunch because he liked it. But he couldn't tell me what it was because "it was too difficult to explain". I was intrigued. Intrigued enough to go to the computer and plug his lunch menu into Google Translate. And let me tell you, my son isn't eating the typical cafeteria lunches I had as a child. (Some of the more memorable, and not in a good way, meals included a platter of baked beans served with a petrified cube of yellow cheese and the ubiquitous "tuna-pea-wiggle", essentially a bad tuna casserole served over saltine crackers).

So what did Sidney eat for lunch on Friday? He started off with a watercress soup and continued with a chicken sausage served alongside a dish of zucchini au gratin. These international pre-schoolers are eating well. Out of curiosity I went on to translate the remainder of the lunch calendar and each meal was more impressive than the last. Every lunch started with a soup; cream of carrot, tomato & basil, and celery and watercress seemed to be favorites. Entrees ranged from fish fillets with mustard sauce and lasagna Bolognese to pork fillets with a mushroom sauce and macaroni and Swiss cheese with ham.  No boxed orange stuff served here. A few items didn't translate but the "flight of wild mushrooms" sounded really interesting. And of course no meal would be complete without dessert. Where are the jello cups, canned mixed fruit, and chocolate pudding?  In their place are fresh fruits (kiwis have become Sidney's new favorite) and mocha creme, vanilla and caramel flan, or crepes with sugar. For four year olds? I love it!

Despite my best attempts at broadening Sidney's culinary horizons--I make versions of many of these dishes at home--he steadfastly refuses to try anything that is new, different, or anything that is not plain pasta. I am hopeful that his being repeatedly presented with these meals, combined with mid day hunger pains, will finally induce him to try new dishes. If the school keeps serving these meals the other children must be eating and enjoying the food so maybe my little American-Albanian boy will grow to like them too. Honestly, as a food loving home cook I am in awe at these menus. American schools could take a pointer or two from their European counterparts.

(Mostly) Wordless Wednesday: Thanksgiving w/ Albanian Living Magazine

I blogged about the experience here; now you can see what it looked like.

Foodie is NOT A Four Letter Word

"Love people:  cook them tasty food"

                              --Penzeys Spices


I love good food and I'm not ashamed to admit it.  This isn't news to anyone who reads my food blog.  I subscribe to way too many culinary magazines and spend hours on end getting inspired by other's food blogs, I ran out of space on my cookbook shelf years ago, and my kitchen (both of them) cabinets are bursting with gadgets and utensils that regularly get put to good use.  Whether it be eating it, cooking it, or simply dreaming up new recipes, food is often on my mind.  During my long bouts with insomnia I fantasize about new flavor combinations and develop menus for future dinners. When eating out I'm the person who will taste a dish for the first time and then spend the rest of the meal trying to determine the source of all of the flavors with the plan of replicating the dish at home.  And not all food has to be fancy, five star experiences; some of the best food I've ever tasted has been purchased from street vendors or hole-in-the-wall type establishments.  I'll try anything at least once since that is how I've made some of my favorite culinary discoveries.  After all, variety is the spice of culinary life.  For me, all I ask is that food is well prepared with love.  

One of my biggest disappointments about our time in Albania has been the lack of culinary variety here.  I've tasted some good Albanian food but repeatedly walk away from the traditional tables craving more variety since the options presented to us are often limited to just a few items.  While the variety of what is available has improved over the past two years I still find it to be lacking so our trips outside of the country have served as culinary lifesavers where I can enjoy the foods I crave while discovering new foods and flavors with the hope of recreating them at home.  Whether it be noshing on grilled meats from a street vendor in Ljubljana, eating a formal traditional Polish feast in Warsaw, or consuming the best pizza I've ever had at a roadside gas station in Naples, I've enjoyed it all.  As a lover of Asian foods of all kinds, and unable to find really good Asian food here in Tirana, we make it a point to eat at Indian and Thai restaurants in every foreign city we visit.  (The quality of my own Asian cooking has increased significantly since we've arrived here because making it myself has been my only real option).  And of course we also eat as local as we can.  With the exception of the requisite cheeseburger from a Hard Rock Cafe, we avoid western chain restaurants like the plague.  (My family loves good burgers and have yet to find one overseas outside of a HRC that even comes close to the Kelly's Tavern burgers what we are craving).  Repeatedly, I return home from each trip culinarily inspired and always spend the next few days in the kitchen attempting to recreate the dishes I enjoyed so much.

There is a word for people like me:  foodie.  A foodie is simply someone who has a keen interest in food and drink and views eating and drinking as a hobby to be enjoyed rather than a chore that simply fuels their body.  There is nothing wrong with liking and enjoying food but somewhere along the way, and I'm not really sure where or when this happened, being a foodie became a dirty word.  I'm an avid reader of the Washington Post food column and eagerly look forward to food writer Tom Sietsema's weekly online chat about the D.C. food scene.  (Of course Glenn just tells me that this is a form of self imposed torture since I am only able to dream about partaking in all of the dining options).  I've been following this chat for years but have noticed that as of late,  an increasing number of participants have been commenting snidely about the use of the word foodie as though being one is a bad thing.  Why or why is being labeled as a foodie turning into a bad thing?  Is it wrong to like good tasting food and seek it out?  Why should I feel ashamed for caring about what I put in my family's mouths?  Is it wrong that I prefer quality over quantity? (Americans eating at high end restaurants often complain that portions are too small).  Call me a food snob but I refuse to apologize for liking good food.

Yes, I'm a foodie and I am proud of it.  And with that, I'm going to spend the rest of my Sunday cooking up a storm.

Getting Horsey

Horse meat has been in the news recently.  The revelation that traces of horse meat had been found in products labeled as pure ground beef in Great Britain first triggered the uproar.   Much to the horror of many consumers, DNA testing revealed the presence of horse meat in frozen foods sold in grocery stores across Europe.  And then it was revealed that even the meatballs sold at IKEA, the iconic Swedish super store, were tainted with horse meat.  (The presence of dangerous hormones is an entirely different story; we should all care about potentially dangerous toxins in our foods).  While horse meat is not commonly eaten in England, in Eurasian countries such as Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan horse meat is a very common meat.  And horse meat consumption is not limited to less developed parts of the world.  China, Mexico, Argentina, and Italy are ranked amongst the top consumers of horse meat.  At Ljubljana, Slovenia's  Hot Horse fast food restaurant, horse burgers are pumped out the same way McDonald's serves Big Macs.  Not every country has jumped on the horse meat bandwagon however.  The Food Standards Code of Australia and New Zealand does not recognize horse meat as a "meat" and Jewish dietary laws forbid the consumption of horse meat because horses do not have cloven hooves.  To each their own.

I'm not advocating for or against the consumption of horse meat.  Food is very much cultural and very personal.  What is popular in one country might be considered inedible in another and within individual countries people make their own dietary decisions based on their own personal beliefs.  While Americans love their beef, reindeer rules supreme in Scandinavian countries, haggis fills plates in Scotland, raw fish is rolled into sushi in Japan, and rabbit is common fare in Italy.  And just think about some of the culinary delicacies found in Asian countries.   I once had a conversation with a woman whose husband travelled the world extensively for work.  She often joined him and attended her fair share of lunches and dinners where she was treated with VIP status.  She said she found Asian trips particularly challenging.  As such, she had found herself in many situations where she was expected to consume flora and fauna that would be considered inedible by American standards.  She quickly learned that in the name of world diplomacy she must not question what was on the plate in front of her before a meal, and perhaps to only question after it had been consumed.  In the Balkans, and other parts of Eastern Europe, every part of the animal is eaten.  And when I say every part, I mean every part.  I once visited a butcher shop in Budapest, Hungary that proudly displayed case upon case of pig penises and testicles.  You will see sheep eyeballs peering up at you from meat cases in Albania and as a guest of honor you may be presented with an entire sheep head.  Our butcher was excited when ordering a whole lamb for the first time, I told him that he could keep the head, feet, and all of the inner organs. Personally, they just aren't my cup of tea.  The French have escargot and the Greeks have calamari; strange looking foods that get consumed with great gusto.  In comparison to some cultures, American cuisine can be pretty tame but we have some foods that appear to be just as foreign to people unfamiliar with the American palate.  Try explaining a chicken fried steak or a corn dog to a European and imagine the questioning looks you will get.

I love food and will try just about everything once.  With the exception of a couple of the items mentioned above, I have tried them all. Some I liked and would order again but others I will take a pass on the next time around.  In a world where millions of people are simultaneously starving and obese, food is more than sustenance.  It speaks to who we are and our values as individuals and cultures.  It identifies us and defines us. Who are we to pass judgement on what others choose to eat?