buckeyes-landscapeLauren showed me a pen right before Valentine’s day. “Look mom, it says ‘Buckeyes’”.

Once I got past my initial panic that she was turning into a college basketball fan, I asked her where she’d gotten the pen. Apparently it was a gift from school. Some caring soul had brought Buckeyes into the classroom, and while her classmates snacked on treats, she and the two other nut-free kids sat in a corner and played with their new pens.

Fortunately she wasn’t traumatized, but she seemed to be genuinely curious about these mystery cookies that she’ll never be able to sample.

“Girl, I’ll make you a nut free Buckeye” I said as I started to dig around online for a similar recipe without peanut butter.

The problem is that she’s also allergic to Sunbutter, the sunflower seed butter that most recipes use as a substitute.

I was just about to call it a day, when I came across a recipe from The Spatularette that used Biscoff spread, a cookie-based butter, in place of the peanut butter.

buckeyes-portrait

I hadn’t heard of cookie butter until recently. But all of a sudden it was an in product, causing near-stampedes at Trader Joe’s over the holidays.

With this country’s fixation on all things cookie dough, I’d jumped to the erroneous conclusion that it was some kind of peanut butter studded with cookie dough. Sounds horrible and gag-inducing, but I wouldn’t put it past some people. If you need further proof, I give you the cookie dough martini.

So I’d turned a blind eye to cookie butter. I hadn’t given it a second thought until confronted with the Buckeye challenge.

buckeyes_biscoff

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kiwi 229

Mikey where are you? MIKEY!!

If you read last week’s post, you’ll understand the significance of Mikey and why he’s so important to our mystery food challenge. Mikey was not here with us this week. Mikey was not interested at all in our new food. Not even after I told her that she could chase the tiny little monster seeds and eat them. She had Cookie Doodle on the brain and once that happens, attention is a thing of the past.

It’s not like I was encouraging them to try radishes or beets, we’re talking kiwi here. Kiwi is one of my favorite fruits. As a kid I used to swipe every last piece from a buffet table’s fruit platter; my tongue would be raw for two days. How my kids don’t like kiwi is beyond me…

ME: Guys what’s this called?

SAM: Banana!

ME: It’s not a banana.

SAM: Spaghetti and meatballs!

ME: It’s not a banana. It’s not spaghetti and meatballs.

SAM: An orange!

ME: It’s not an orange. Why don’t we let Emma answer.

EMMA: It looks like a little bit of juice.

ME: Cool, Lauren what is this?

LAUREN: I forgot what it is.

ME: Does it start with a K?

LAUREN: Kiche?

ME: No, it’s not quiche.

ME: It’s called….

SAM: Kiwi!

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butternut 228

It’s hard for me to admit this, but my kids hate squash. Their only real experience is with butternut, which is probably the least offensive, the  least squashiest of all squash. The word squash is starting to look weird.

I figured if a gateway squash exists, spaghetti squash would be it. Cook it, separate it into strands, and all of a sudden you have something that resembles noodles.

We had one taker. Emma is turning out to be the Mikey of our family. Those of you who grew up in the 80s will remember Mikey. He pimped Life cereal for years. “Let Mikey try it…” Mikey was the youngest, about Emma’s age. These days, Mikey’s probably sporting gray facial hair and a combover, but I respect the guy. He was the kid with a perfect appetite, the kid who would try anything. It took Emma some time to get comfortable with spaghetti squash, but once she did, she channeled her best Mikey. All of a sudden, she was the kid who ate everything.

ME: OK guys, spaghetti squash. Emma I’m going to give you a little bit. Lauren don’t try it yet, I want you to smell it and do all of that first.

EMMA: Eeeewwww….

ME: We don’t say ew in this house. Remember?

EMMA: Ack!

ME: We don’t say ack either.

EMMA: I don’t like it.

ME: I don’t like it is the same thing. We can’t say these things. What does it look like? (I sample a bite).

LAUREN: Hey no fair, you get to eat it before us!

ME: That’s because I’ve had it before.

EMMA: It looks like a banana.

ME: How come?

EMMA: Because it looks like a flower.

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beets 227

Because of our blood orange success, I was convinced that gore was the way to go when introducing bright red fruits and vegetables. I was wrong. I highly, highly recommend that you don’t offer new foods by saying this: “hey kids, we’re doing a mystery food tonight and it’s going to be bloody!”

The beets were rejected pretty quickly. Sam and Emma liked them for a tenth of a nanosecond before deciding that beets were horrible. Talk of garbage came up a few times, which I understand. Beets have a certain earthy quality; getting accustomed to them can take a while.. I’m not down and out on beets yet though… they have potential. Next time I’ll try to spruce them up with a little blood orange juice. We’ll see what happens….

ME: Hey what is this?

SAM: It’s not bloody.

LAUREN: I would guess that it’s reddish black on the inside.

ME: But what is the name of this?

LAUREN: Blood orange?

ME: It’s not blood orange.

EMMA: It looks like a little bit like juice.

ME: A little bit right, it’s really dark red like your red juice.  It’s like solid juice. Like your favorite, like cranberry juice.

EMMA: Yeah, I’ll smell it. (Sniffs) Yummy!

ME: Yummy? Does it smell so good?

EMMA: Yeah.

ME: What does it smell like?

EMMA: I want to eat it.

ME: Well let’s give everyone a chance to smell it first. Sam, what does it smell like?

SAM: Garbage.

ME: What do you think it smells like?

LAUREN: Yummy!

ME: OK, so two yummies and a garbage.

EMMA: I want to eat it!

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test over

Sam had a test last week. A standard issue Kindergarten prep test, a necessary evil, on par with a trip to the dentist. There’s only so much you can do to get a 4-year old ready for something like this. All you can do is hope is that your kid is in a good mood, well rested, and has eaten breakfast.

I did what I could to check the boxes. Starting the night before with a trip to 16 Handles. Sam clowned around, pretending to be a lobster and seeking attention. Emma was an easy target and was more than willing to pet him in between each bite. “Good lobster…”
emma

Fortunately, he did sleep well that night and ate a big breakfast in the morning.

“Sam”, I said, “what would you like as a treat when you’ve finished with The Puzzler?” The Puzzler of course being the Scary Test Lady, but those words are never uttered. We opened the door to the school.

“A donut”, he said.

When you’re a kid, the most highly coveted prize in the world is a donut. It’s an 89 cent wonder. But it was well-deserved, the frozen yogurt, the donut, all of it. The little guy had tried his heart out.

Lucky for Sam, I had one more surprise in store…..

“I have something special planned” I said as we wandered back home. “We’re going for a scoot around the city.”

Once home, I pulled out the pair of black and neon mittens I’d hidden in my room. “These will keep your hands warm.”

“They strap onto my scooter?!” Oh yes they do little man…

So off we went on our scooter adventure, heading down 7th Avenue.

street

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