Things that go squid in the night

OK, I admit it: when faced with certain foods, I'm still a slightly squeamish eater. I know, not the thing to start off a blog about healthy eating with, but the truth must come out. The strange, unusual, odd or unknown still produces my inner child reaction of "Icky!", now I just have enough grown-up manners not to show it!

Not such a great trait of mine, huh? Is this a parental gene I hope my child inherits- no way! So many times we forget that "children do as they see and not as they are told", and too often they see us passing on our own food prejudices. I try to approach all foods with a clear and open mind and allow my son to decide preferences for himself; sometimes the challenge is easier than others.

Big P. had just returned from a late night fishing trip... or should I say squidding trip? Perched at the Woods Hole dock on Cape Cod at midnight, my husband, a group of friends, and the resident old-salt all stared down into the night sea. Someone flashed a light, and look! There they were!! Squid in clumps followed the light like a moth to the flame, and just as fatally were drawn up from their cold ocean home.

Squid season is short here in New England, a few weeks at best and some nights are more productive than others, but Big P. returns with a nice bundle this time. In the morning instead of toothbrush routines, my 3 1/2 year old son wakes to the excitement of cleaning the squid with DaDa. His little fingers are in charge of rinsing after DaDa discharges the ink; which is saved for later and added to homemade pasta for briny flavor and it's unique black color.

They are having so much fun! Flapping the squid fins like bird wings, flipping around the tentacles in the sink and generally making a happy mess of my kitchen. So why do I look at this calamari cutie of mine just enjoying the moment and feel only slight nausea at the rawness of it all?

Food does not start out in a box. It is not born in a bag, package, carton or deli case. We need to show our children the beginning of the chain sometimes, and let them respect it for what it is. Big P. explains to our son that when we go fishing, we only keep things that we intend to eat and the rest gets released for another day. Simple show and tell lessons of sustainability, and involving him with the squid make the best impressions on our young one.

While I supervise Little P. concocting a bowl of olive oil, fresh squeezed orange juice, dried oregano and orange zest, my husband does the knife work on the calamari. Slices will sit in the bowl for about 30 minutes, and then get a quick turn out on the gas grill. Sprinkle with salt and pepper and viola! Breakfast is served!

As our little guy digs in greedily, I still try to contain my roiling belly, and put on a happy face. So I don't eat calamari- big deal. It is a healthy, real, delicious (so I'm told) food, and why should my son not like it? Everyone is different and that is OK, and I need to allow my child to be different from me in his food choices. He picks up a dangling, wiggly bunch: "DaDa is this the tentacles?". He gets an affirmative answer and the squiggles disappear down his little throat as he proclaims "Yum!!".

Yeah- right, yummy, squishy squid.... Put on the happy face Kim!!! "I'm glad you like your squid breakfast buddy" I say, with a loving, motherly smile. And you know what? I really am.