Love, Love, Love the Italians

We've been having a little trouble feeding Iain here in Seattle. The problem is two-fold. First, we don't have our usual freezer full of delicious homemade baby food. So he's not getting much veg. (Charles said, "You got what you wanted - he likes Mommy's cooking best.") Second, Iain can't really share our meals out because (this being Seattle) we're eating a ton of sushi, crab, and other seafoods. Since the pediatrician wants us to wait until Iain's a little older to give him fish, and especially shellfish, we've been unable to pass over a taste as we usually do. 

However, there have been bright spots. Today we bought some locally produced hummus, which Iain happily consumed for dinner. At lunch (sushi!), he tried miso soup (success!), inari (sushi rice wrapped in a piece of tofu skin that's slightly sweet), and pickled ginger. The last was a failure, but he liked the tofu, rice, and soup. Yay!

Another bright spot emerged thanks to Maddalena. She's an expert in the history of American immigration (Jewish and Italian, thanksforasking), a helping hand on an NEH grant, and an all 'round fabulous girl. Today she helped save me from a cardigan that was Very Wrong. This morning, she asked me, "Can I give Iain this apple?" "No, it's too hard." "Oh, my mother always grated it." 

Well, duh. 

Miriam got out the grater and went to town on a nice little apple. 

We mixed it into some Greek yoghurt, added some cinnamon, and...

Yeah. Mr. Boy liked that just fine. So today, lunch and dinner passed easily and everyone enjoyed them. I can't believe it never occurred to me to grate the apple. Love the Italians. Love them. The Most.