When he was tiny (we're talking 18 months here), Sam would eat the salmon loaf that I made from my dad's (yes, my dad's) recipe. It's really fantastic stuff. Bake up a potato with it, maybe make some veggies (if the mood and energy are right), and enjoy!
Of course, I haven't even offered it to him since the Great Cereal Jag of 2006. Tonight, I asked if he wanted to help me clean the (canned; we tried fresh and it just wasn't the same, although ordinarily we like our seafood fresh) salmon . . . and he did! Then I thought, he's going to touch this slimy stuff and be grossed out and not eat it. He thought it was slimy but was also into it; he got the skin off and was fascinated about the spine bones (um, would that be vertebrae?).
AND . . . drum roll please . . . he ate it. He declared it was good and delicious and ate all that was on his plate.
Kate ate two bites of potato and said she was finished. We reminded her there was ice cream cake (from Sam's party on Friday) if she ate so she let me feed her the salmon loaf. Not the potato.
I really don't like the feeding her thing (is she being a prima donna? should I insist she feed herself? sometimes she just doesn't eat if I'm not forking it into her mouth). But I do it.
Oh. I have to tell you about the one boy at Sam's party. I thought my children were picky . . .