(US) MOMMY TRACK: Kitchen-table diplomacy

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MOMMY TRACK: Kitchen-table diplomacy

By LORRI WICKENHAUSER

THE MODESTO BEE

(Published: Sunday, February 25, 2001)

 

MOMMY TRACK: Kitchen-table diplomacy

By LORRI WICKENHAUSER

THE MODESTO BEE

(Published: Sunday, February 25, 2001)

 

Growing up in a military family, I learned a bit about diplomacy,

especially when it comes to food.

 

One morning in the early '70s, while my mom was frying eggs and sausage,

I made a typical teen-age announcement: " I'm going to become a vegetarian. "

 

Mom didn't argue or fume or slam cabinet doors. She just said, " OK, " and

kept on cooking.

 

When breakfast was ready, she put an egg and a couple of sausages on my

plate. I ate them, and that was that.

 

I was outgunned, having neither the knowledge nor the motivation to fight

the status quo.

 

Peace was at hand. Mom had learned to choose her battles.

 

In the mid-80s, relatively early in our married life, I finally mustered

the resources to go on my first health-food kick. For dinner one night, I

made a mock meat loaf.

 

" What IS this? " my husband asked, picking with his fork at the generous

slice I had dished up for him.

 

" It's lentil loaf, " I answered cheerfully.

 

He looked skeptical. " What's in it? " he asked.

 

" Good stuff, " I told him. " Mostly lentils and brown rice, with onions,

mushrooms, grated carrot … things like that. Not bad, huh? "

 

He didn't respond. In fact, he didn't say much the rest of the meal.

 

Later, however, he came right out and revealed his deepest innermost

feelings about health food: He hated it. He loathed lentils, abhorred brown

rice, and he wasn't too crazy about whole-wheat flour, either.

 

He didn't exactly say he'd divorce me if I ever made lentil loaf again, but

the implication was clearly there, simmering under the surface.

 

" OK, " I said. I didn't argue or fume or slam cabinet doors (not much, anyway.)

 

I lost the Battle of Lentil Loaf, but I wasn't about to surrender in the

Health Food War.

 

I adopted guerrilla tactics. Little by little, I sneaked soups and salads

and whole grains and veggies into the menu, while easing the

artery-clogging things into the background.

 

There were advances and retreats over major issues like hot-dog

consumption. These have called for compromise, like limiting them to

cookouts or birthday parties or when Dad's home alone.

 

Along the way, a funny thing happened: As we got older, my husband's body

betrayed him. His digestive system turned against him and started siding

with my health-food books and me.

 

First, his insides just said " no " to dairy products. Later, eggs started

giving him grief, so we cut those out, too. Finally, he acknowledged that

he feels better when he doesn't eat meat.

 

That doesn't mean he gave it up. It just means I sometimes serve meat, and

then he suffers for it, and then he blames me for his discomfort. Then he

gripes less about meatless meals.

 

As I have continued to expand my healthy menus, our 9-year-old son and

4-year-old daughter have at times declared a preference for corn dogs and

chicken nuggets.

 

I just say, " OK. " Then I dish up the corn chowder or stuffed potatoes or

veggie stew.

 

Peace is at hand, because this mom has learned to choose her battles, too.

 

Write Lorri Wickenhauser at P.O. Box 5256, Modesto 95352

or e-mail LorriW.