I’d like to welcome my friend, Kerina, as my guest for this next post.
Kerina and I met in a Philosophy 1A lecture at the University of Adelaide and bonded over a shared love of indie music and girl bands that could rock out. The next year we both started writing for On Dit, the Adelaide University students’ newspaper. We were appointed Music Editors with another friend in 1995, and then elected Editors in 1996. It was when we were laying out the weekly, 80-page A3 newspaper that Kerina realised that she loved design more than words; she later retrained as a graphic designer.
Ten months ago, Kerina and her fiancé welcomed a baby boy to their family and I blogged about the importance of feeding new parents.
Here’s what Kerina has to share about her son learning how to eat.
Imagine, for a moment, an alien lands on your doorstep.
As part of explaining life on our humble planet, you introduce them to our concept of food. They’ve never felt the joy of sinking their teeth/gums/tentacles into a ripe peach. They’ve never winced at the sourness of lemon, or experienced the fire of chilli. They don’t know that bananas taste better peeled.
How do you begin to introduce the vast scope of flavours and textures for the first time, to somone for whom food is a new concept?
Ten months ago we welcomed R into our family, and five months ago we started on this journey together.
Tasting those first single-ingredient purees was a surprising experience for both of us. As adults, we take for granted the taste of most fresh produce: we see the carrot on our plate, and know how it tastes before it reaches our mouth. The expectation is well-established.
