Have I Created A Monster?

We like to say that our son Benji has a nose--he can smell a horse, a skunk, a piece of bread or a foul odor about two minutes before the rest of us. But it is Theo who has the palate of a gourmande.

Naturally, he just does not like processed foods. He prefers breadsticks to pretzels, brown rice to white, and fruits to bad cookies. (A good cookie still wins.) But his palate really is remarkable. He likes Thai peanut sauce and fresh basil leaves on his pizza. He likes smelly cheeses and loved olives even as a baby. When we go to friends' houses for barbeque he makes comments like: "Wow, this is really good. It tastes like olive oil, lemon juice and garlic." And it is.

Today I picked him up from school. I was running late and had a pile of lasagna ingredients in the back of the car from the farmer's market, including one perfect French baguette from Monsieur Marcel, a real french specialty store, full of real French people and real French ingredients. Theo asked for a hunk, took a bite, and said, "Mommy, where did you get this. This is really good bread."

And it was.

Will he be a chef or an engineer or an architect or a storyteller? Only time will tell.

But, I told him, women LOVE men who cook.