My Jesse is a butterball. A suckling pig, a fattened duck if you will. With a soft, pliable belly and thighs you could grab onto if you were in need of a life-raft I safely assume he's going to be a true eater. Willingly opening up his mouth for every bite, cleaning out his every bowl. I would steam entire sweet potatoes planning six meals out of them, only to wind up with three by the time he was done. We'd fly through his first few weeks of single ingredient introductions and hungrily work our way through more complex meals like barley with feta and mint, or polenta with parmesan and cherry tomatoes. I'd food shop twice a week, just to replenish our ever diminishing produce bins. We'd sign up for the CSA again this year, but this time a full share, knowing that no leaf, berry or tuber would go to waste. He would get fatter, and more delicious, and on his first birthday we wouldn't have ice-cream, but full-fat gelato instead. If it sounds like I was plumping him up for a feast you'd be right. Not that I want to eat him per se, but I'd be lying if I didn't say I thought about it. Can you blame me? I defy you to look at that face and tell me you wouldn't want a bite, half expecting him to taste like a warm brioche bun.
And so we began. Butternut squash on week 1. A 'meh' response. Not what I was hoping for, but he gets a pass. It was, after all, the first thing he's consumed other than breast milk. So ok, there's a learning curve.
Week 2: Banana and beets, separately of course. Banana, another 'meh', but beets were a clear Win. Go figure.
Week 3: Sweet potato, a revelation. The chunker actually grabbed the spoon and fed himself. I wish I were kidding. And just when I thought we'd hit our stride he repeatedly, and I mean back-to-back, dry heaved on an avocado. Like the tiniest bit of avocado. Sigh.
Week 4: remains to be seen. Oozy French cheese? Curried lamb? I'm open for suggestions people!