My son is 12, and finicky about what he eats, so the lead from this item by Ed Bruske resonated with me:
Like every family, we’ve had our food battles with our 10-year-old daughter. With great dismay, we watched a pre-schooler who amazed us with the range of her palate (she couldn’t get enough Altoids or wasabe peas) morph into a bratty pre-teen who turns dinner into a slugfest with a litany of foods she refuses to eat.
“What’s for dinner?” is no longer an innocent question, but the opening salvo of our nightly culinary donnybrook.
For the rest, see: My daughter, grass-fed rib-eye fanatic.