Cookie Cutter Sandwhich
Do you have a picky eater at home? We do, but it feels fair on the universe’s balance sheet. My wife and I were picky eaters growing up. Grilled cheese for her, PB&J for me. We did have other entrees from time to time, but it was an exclusive list. Candy always made the cut. As Jerry Seinfeld once explained, “All children’s lives are driven by one all-consuming thought, ‘get candy, get candy, get candy.’”
Occasionally, you can trick a child into eating something. Put the carrot inside a lump of mashed potatoes and swallow it fast. Smother the thing you don’t like in ketchup. Whatever it takes to get some nutrition in their bodies.
Another trick we have used is cookie cutters. Change the shape of the food, add some flair, make it look different. Distracting our children, that’s what we are doing. I most often do this with sandwiches. My daughter isn’t a huge sandwich fan, but she frequents them enough that we need to dress them up to keep her interested.
One time I got ambitious and tried slicing a dinosaur out of those two bookends of bread. The results were questionable at best, laughable in reality. When I showed her my homework, she thought it was a turtle. I had to own up to the fact that my career as a deli maestro was dead upon delivery.
Remembering that we have a drawer of cookie cutters, I decided to zag and use a new approach. Turns out they are perfect for shaping things other than snickerdoodles. Pro tip: when you buy cookie cutters, look for ones with a tall edge. Those old Christmas tree shapes with metal razor sides that are barely thicker than a pencil - they only serve to smash bread. Try using a rolling pin next time, it’s more efficient at making paper thin hoagies.
We were recently running late in the morning. What a surprise. I wanted to put some extra food in my daughter's lunch bag knowing she had dance rehearsal after school. A peanut butter sandwich would really round out the meal, but she hadn’t been very enthused for them lately. I was about to slap together those tan slabs of wheat when I thought about the cookie cutter.
Then I hesitated. For a second I thought, “She’s not a child anymore. Does a ten-year-old really need food shaped like a trout to entice her appetite?” Then a second voice entered my head, “Why wouldn’t you spice up the visuals on this boring meal? Pretty soon she won’t care. Then you will miss all the days you got silly in the kitchen.”
Ah yes, the constant parental tension. Please grow up and stop whining…no, stop growing up, I miss the dance parties. So I gave in to my better angels and grabbed the unicorn. It’s her favorite.
