Delaney’s last day of school is this Friday. To celebrate, she wants to have her friend Sam (also a foodie and aspiring chef) come over so the two of them can cook dinner for all four of us parents. They’ve done it several times before, and we always have a great time, as well as a fantastic meal.
Here’s the glitch.
I’m having trouble communicating with that 13-year-old brain. Delaney seems to believe that “cooking a special dinner” means “intentionally choosing the least healthy foods possible.”
I totally get where she’s coming from. Been there, thought that. It took me years after Lee’s heart attack to get comfortable with a new definition of entertaining. Lee is an extraordinarily social creature, and I love to cook for people, so naturally we love to have people over for dinner. It was hard, for a long time, to figure out how to create a company-worthy menu that wouldn’t clog up Lee’s (or anyone else’s, for that matter) arteries.
Entertaining guests with good, healthy food doesn’t have to be a compromise. It’s possible to put together a delicious meal without relying on cream and butter and gooey cheeses. As a matter of fact, from a cook’s perspective, it can be kind of an interesting challenge, and not using all those tongue-coating dairy products actually lets some flavors–like really fresh, perfect produce–shine more brightly.
The hardest part, though, was learning how to stop apologizing for my food. I think that’s the part I’m having trouble getting across to Delaney. It took me years to gain the confidence to just serve my food, without pointing out how healthy it was. Realistically, no one wants to hear that stuff, anyway. Constantly yammering about how virtuous your food is is, at the very least, boring, if not downright gauche. So I understand her hesitation.
I wish I knew how to help her navigate this scenario, though. Should she just tell Sam, flat-out, that they need to make this the “healthy eating challenge?” Should she try and subtly steer him toward a lighter menu, trying not to draw attention to the issue? Should she (could she, even) ignore the whole thing, cook whatever he wants, and just not eat very much? Or blow the diet entirely, and not worry about it?
If she were an adult, I might know what to tell her. If she weren’t about to leave for 3 weeks of summer camp, it might not matter so much.
Sigh. I have no idea. I do know there’s a tiny little spasm starting under my right shoulder . . .