Yay! My daughter likes to cook 🥚. What I didn’t realize, was I needed to eat them all.
She got to experiment however (the fxxk) she wanted with eggs, because we have been on the “positive reinforcement/you can try anything/everything tastes great” parenting bandwagon. And boy, I have literally tasted the price of unconditional love. It’s sometimes delicious, mostly gassy, and often downright nasty.
When she first learned how to fry an egg, everything was great. Perfectly fried egg, sunny side up. I love it.
She would also make egg melts. How adorable!
But she didn’t like the runny yolks. I made the mistake to encourage her to experiment.
One time, she decided to fry the whites and the yolk separately. She got the whites, and I was forced to eat the rubbery overcooked yolk. I thought I ate play-doh. No, I could not tell her that. We should be positive, remember? But I think she knew how it tasted, because she offered the entire yolk to me, exclusively.
She also loved seaweeds. One morning she was inspired by the Tamago she had the night before from a Japanese restaurant. She decided to add seaweed. It was actually ok.
She was praised, and then she abused the reinforcement. She decided to unload a forest of seaweed onto her eggs.
My goodness, I had a hard time understanding what I was eating. There was so much seaweed. The egg would just make it even more horrifying because it was so thoroughly cooked. It was like eating an onslaught of soggy paper soaked in stale sea water, mixed with play-doh.
Then cheese was introduced to her life, and she would now always include cheese. Yes. Overcooked eggs, cheese, and seaweed. And it’s not just normal cheese like … cheddar or American. She loves stinky cheese.
Here is an example. This was a violently pungent piece of goat cheese we bought from a farmer’s market. It was big, and it was so smelly that we needed 3 ziplock bags to seal it.
One time, she decided that adding pieces of this cheese directly on a cooked egg would be the best way to balance the texture. As a result, I had to eat play-doh that smelled like toenail fungus.
She loves melons too. Yep, you guessed it. This was play-doh fried egg with a gigantic piece of melon. It was nasty to eat because it was impossible to not spill the eggs everywhere when I tried to chew into that humongous piece of melon.
Obviously, clearly, I am okay with all these. I mean, I have to, right? That’s what we parents are supposed to do, right? I mean, this is the only way to not repeat my own traumatic childhood experience on her, right? But honestly, I don’t know. I feel more traumatized now.
Apart from nasty eggs, she has also made these “90% Cupcakes”. These were cupcakes made with 90% chocolate, oatmeal, and god knows what else. They were bitter and had a strong earthy tone to them. She made these because she knew I didn’t like sugar and therefore these would be the best alternatives (no she didn’t eat them but proclaimed they were tasty).
Another time, she decided to wrap her steaks with bread. Just plain pieces of shredded bread, not even toasted, wrapped around the meat. Those were wagyu beef for crying out loud!! (Actually, apparently, this IS a thing in Japan)
I don’t know if I want to continue this. Frankly, I prefer being a different kind of parent. One that does not need to eat play-doh all the time. I guess I won’t be able to fix this now. Perhaps I could approach my son differently. Dictatorship is coming back, big time.