The other day there was a great piece on the Atlantic Food Channel by Lesley Freeman Riva, "A Foodie Parent's Biggest Worry: Can My Teen Feed Herself?" It got me thinking. Like Lesley, I am a foodie. And like Lesley, I have a daughter, Emma, who can barely be bothered to pour herself a glass of water.
But it's not that daughter I'm worried about. Emma, a senior in high school, will (God willing) head off to college next year. I know she will somehow get by: Since she doesn't care that much about food, she will always find something to eat. Even though she's been brought up on guinea hen, farro, and heirloom tomatoes, she's just as happy with Chicken McNuggets or a handful of Cheerios.
No, it's my other daughter, Sophie, that I am worried about. Sophie is the one who inherited the foodie gene. She has just left to attend university in London and the calls have already started. "Do you realize how much fleur de sel costs?!" "Where I am supposed to find fresh mozzarella?"While other mothers are baking brownies and chocolate chip cookies to fill care packages, I'm looking up the regulations for shipping guanciale.
I worry about Sophie getting enough to eat simply because she refuses to make do. Like me, Sophie has low blood sugar, so when she gets hungry she goes slightly mad. Does she grab the nearest pretzel/apple/bag of potato chips to bring her hormones back to normal? No. She would rather suffer till she makes it to the farmers' market to pick up a week's worth of perfect plums.