by Dragon Mommy
My five-year-old son is a fussy eater. Okay, let me better define that – an extremely fussy eater. Trying to feed him healthy food at home is near impossible. When traveling, impossible. Even his usually favorite white bread with a generous slab of butter is refused with a curt, “This does not taste the same.”
I have gotten over the stress of it since a friend in a similar situation simplified it for me, “They will lose a kilo or two on holiday… and will put it back on when we get home.”
So, off we went.
One child would eat his daily dose of fruits and veggies, the other survived on desserts and milkshakes. One child explored local cuisine and did not shy away from trying new tastes… Sandesh in Kolkata, lobsters in Phuket, Pitha in Guwahati, Khandvi in Mumbai, Thukpa in Darjeeling, hummus in Abu Dhabi, biryani in Hyderabad. The other…well survived on desserts and milkshakes.
In a situation like this, it came as a pleasant surprise to me when he announced at breakfast when at the Novotel, Dubai that he was ready to try the pancakes. He often ate home-made pancakes. Whole wheat pancakes with eggs, ingredients that gave me great pleasure to feed him but of course, secretly masked under the taste of butter and chocolate spread.
A young and rather attractive French chef cooked up the pancakes at the live counter. I turned on my charm, he turned on the heat and poured on the chocolate. Ahem. Bottomline – my son ate pancakes for breakfast for the rest of the 8 days we were there.
Once back home, I made him pancakes as usual. Imagine my shock when I got a curt “This does not taste the same.”
I tried everything. Logical explanations, threats, reasoning but no, they did not taste like “Dubai pancakes.”
They say a worried mother does better research than an FBI Agent. This one did.
And voila, I discovered Slurrp Farm Millet Chocolate Pancakes online.
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Darling, Mommy loves you so much… so much so that she got in touch with the French Chef in Dubai and he will pack the ingredients and send it over especially for you.
Heaven forgive me!
With bated breath, I make the pancakes and waited to see his reaction. One bite… nothing? Second bite… “It does not taste the same.” My heart sank. “It tastes better…”
It’s been 6 months since.
The ‘French Chef’ dutifully sends packets of Slurrp Farm Millet Chocolate Pancakes. My son dutifully records voice messages that are meant to be sent to the Chef.
I smile like a Cheshire cat.
My son gets his Dubai Pancakes… his dose of egg, milk and super-power millets. And I, multiple recordings of my son very seriously looking into the camera saying “Merci beaucoup, chef” to look back at years later when my nest is empty and pat myself on my back and think, good job Mommy!
I should have taken that Chef’s number though. He was cute. And cooks up some mean pancakes.
This is a real-story by Dragon Mommy, an IIM alumna who left the corporate world after 15 long years to raise her twin sons in a small town because she wanted to enjoy the simple pleasures of motherhood. Besides she didn’t really have a very successful career in the city. She is single by choice. Not hers. She used to be fun. Now she writes about parenting.
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