More than pizza and pancakes

It has been brought to my attention that if you're a regular reader of this blog, you might think that all Biscuit eats is pizza, pancakes and quesadillas.

Well, it's not true. He eats lots of other things, but really, how many fun stories can you find with plain ol' regular weeknight meals?

Tonight, for example. We had baked chicken, black-eyed peas and scalloped potatoes. Then Biscuit had peaches for dessert. Other than me helping Biscuit get the last little bits of peaches out of the bowl by making firetruck noises, there's nothing interesting about chicken, black-eyed peas, scalloped potatoes and peaches.

Biscuit loves sweet potatoes and would eat them at every meal. I can cover one in plastic wrap and throw it in the microwave. Then smoosh it up, add a little butter and cinnamon, and the boy will eat a whole potato by himself.

He also loves most kinds of beans and peas. He doesn't like green beans or butter beans. But he likes pintos, black-eyed peas, black beans and others.

When I make tacos, I saute black beans and whole-kernel corn with some taco seasoning. The beans shrivel up a little bit, so the first time Biscuit noticed, he said, "Mom, can I have more corn and blueberries?" You know what? Those beans did look like blueberries. So that's what he still calls them.

Biscuit likes peaches, oranges, clementines, apples, prunes, blueberries and bananas. He does not like pears.

For meats, he likes crab, shrimp, fish, chicken, all cooked a bunch of different ways.

If I disguise ingredients, I can get him to eat a lot more than he realizes he likes. I make casseroles with ingredients he doesn't like. But if the main ingredients are things he does like, he usually doesn't notice the rest.

Sometimes I make cornbread batter and mix in broccoli, chicken and cheese. He sees little bits of green, but if it's chopped small enough, he'll eat it anyway.

The freakish things about my boy and food is that ice cream isn't one of his favorite things (although I think he's coming around on that one). He also doesn't like pasta. My son doesn't like macaroni and cheese. He doesn't like grits, either.

Let me repeat, my son does not like macaroni and cheese or grits! If I didn't see so much of Jeff and me in him, I would think they swapped him at the hospital.

So in conclusion, if you step into our kitchen, you will find more than pizza, pancakes and quesadillas.