Then again, he really seemed to like the raspberry and balsamic vinegar ice cream that we got at Scoops, so he’s not too far gone.

So did Niall, minus the gravy, which would have taken it into the “too exotic” realm for him.  I made him a really great-tasting frittata the other night, with organic eggs, leftover chicken, and a bunch of other ingredients.  I set it in front of him and he asked, “Where’s my plate?”

When I told him that was his plate, he went ballistic.  “Why did you put tomatoes in my food?  I hate tomatoes!  You should take that back and get me better food.  I just want chicken!”

I told him we didn’t have any other chicken, but then remembered that Jenn had picked up some boneless skinless breasts for me, that were sitting, uncooked, in the fridge.  I took one of the breast halves — a brined fryer, not a premium cut, but hey, that’s cool, if it was much cheaper — put it in the microwave for six minutes, and cut up half and served it to him.

Niall was effusive about “The best lunch [sic] I’ve ever had!”

I try not to straightforwardly program my son, with a couple of exceptions.  One big exception was brainwashing him into loving sushi.  Even at times he would hate nothing more than leaving the house, the mention of sushi at a restaurant can get him revved up about going now.  The other exceptions to programming, I’ll cover in a later post (advocate for immediacy if you’d like).  But other than his total and complete love of everything sushi, he has pretty restricted tastes, as typical for an American his age.  Microwaved, bland, low-quality chicken breasts are Nirvana for him.

(That’s not quite fair.  He loves tofu, and red beans, and a bunch of stuff that’s not “meat and potatoes”.  But the less adorned, the better — even gravy is a no-go, and syrup one of the few exceptions — and God save you if there are any “green things” in the food!  Except for my Green Machine (warning: very annoying, unavoidable Flash).  He loves Green Machine.)