French Kids Eat Everything Karen Billon (romance novel chinese novels txt) 📖

of Lyon—I learned the scientific word for the fear of new foods: neophobia (literally, fear of novelty). Neophobia, she told me, usually appears at about the age of two (more or less the age at which children start feeding themselves). According to her, scientists disagree about why it arises. It may be a protective behavior: young children who are afraid of eating new things are less likely to poison themselves. It may have an evolutionary basis: in nature, the foods that are sweet, fat, or salty tend to have the highest nutritional value and are the least likely to be poisonous. Or it may be primarily psychological, appearing as kids enter a developmental phase of opposition to their parents (the infamous “terrible twos” and the dreaded “No! phase”). And some experts also believe that neophobia may be related to kids’ developing taste buds, which lead them to reject bitter tastes (often found in vegetables) and favor sweet, fat, and salty tastes as more innately pleasurable.

Whatever the explanation, Christelle told me, French experts agree on two things. First, although there is a genetic, biological component to food dislikes, there is also an important cultural component. Kids learn what to like or dislike. And this starts early; some research suggests that flavor experiences in the first year of life can influence food acceptance, and even food preferences, later on in life. Second, neophobia is a developmental phase, not a lifelong condition (although it can develop into a personality trait if badly handled by parents).

My conversations with Christelle gave me hope. Her ideas corresponded with what I’d heard from French parents. According to them, neophobia (although they didn’t call it that) is primarily a psychological condition. French parents expected that children might refuse new foods, but they viewed this as both normal and temporary. When I asked, most parents thought that their kids were testing limits rather than really expressing a true dislike of the food offered to them. And they insisted that it was important not to enter into a power struggle: if their kids refused food, their parents would simply take it away, with little fuss. But no substitutes would be provided—and parents held firm to this rule.

This quote from a French parenting book is typical: “Opposition to food can’t persist if there is no opponent. In the face of a child’s refusal to eat, the best parental response is serene indifference. Parents should remind themselves: ‘I know this will pass. My child will not continue refusing to eat if I simply refuse to react.’” Indifference and serenity were not attitudes I had been cultivating, but I had to admit this sounded much less stressful than my usual approach.

French parents also believe that there are very few foods that truly taste bad. So their view is that most kids are capable of eating most things. Of course, some foods are likely to be distasteful—like the strong taste of raw garlic. But most of the foods that kids won’t eat (like broccoli) don’t actually taste objectively bad. From the French point of view, most of kids’ aversion to food is psychological, rather than physiological.

The French have internalized these ideas in their everyday parenting culture. They believe that kids are inherently curious about food, that most foods are an acquired taste, and that it is the role of parents to help children. So educating their children to enjoy a variety of foods is one of the most important parenting tasks in the toddler years. To do this, the French parents I knew tried to develop what they saw as their babies’ innate curiosity about (and love of) trying new foods. In fact, a little more digging on the Internet turned up some scientific research that backed them up: infants are consistently interested in trying new foods (just as they always prefer the new toy in the room). And tasting new foods when kids are still young can influence food preferences later on. That’s not all: the French studies that Christelle sent to me suggested that many children (about one in four) have little or no neophobia; if parented appropriately, they will happily continue trying new things and will never develop aversions to new foods.

The priority that French parents give to eating as pleasure also means that French parents are not overly controlling with their children. They instinctively know that parental anxiety and pressure can backfire. Feeding children is not about forcing children: often, this means they eat less cooperatively (as I found out the hard way before Christmas). So punitive rules aren’t applied. Rather, rules are about positive discipline, combined with unquestioned routines that make it seem entirely natural for French children to try new foods. This reduces pressure on kids—and on parents. One example is the helpful rule that French parents use to get children to try new things:

French Food Rule #6a:

For picky eaters: You don’t have to like it, but you do have to taste it.

The girls’ Papi (grandfather) is a master at applying this rule when introducing children to new foods. The trick is to get the kids to take the initiative rather than forcing the issue. For example, he might pick his moment while everyone is enjoying an apéritif before dinner, which involves drinking some sort of cocktail and nibbling on salty snacks like olives, crackers, pâté, or nuts. French children adore l’apéritif, perhaps because of its informality; it is the only socially sanctioned snack that French adults eat. And it’s the only time when the family doesn’t eat at the dining room table; l’apéritif is taken seated comfortably in the living room. For the children, for whom eating standing up (or anywhere but at the table) is strictly forbidden, l’apéritif has a slightly Carnavalesque feel—a ritualized way of breaking the rules that feels festive and fun.

So, when Papi asks them to try something new during l’apéritif, our kids are usually happy to accept. An olive might be casually offered. If the child resists, a gentle murmur