Pea is supposed to take a lunch with her to camp. It’s so hard to pack her anything exciting because the school manual specifically states that all foods must be non-perishable and the packaging needs to be such that the kids can serve themselves. Apparently, it’s some sort of a Texas state law that the teachers cannot “serve” the children. This is especially tough because although she has opposable thumbs, sometimes getting those thumbs (and fingers) to work together to peel the cover off of a Tupperware bowl leads to intense frustration on her part. And non-perishable foods? That leaves us with very few choices. It’s not like I can pack her meats or cheeses or yogurt. Or anything.

In addition, she has pretty sophisticated culinary tastes, so it’s not like I can pack her one of those “Lunchables” things I always see at the grocery store. First of all, we try really hard not to eat processed foods in this house. I’m not being a snob, I’ve just been reading a lot lately on nutrition and have made a conscious decision to eat organic, natural and healthfully in our home. Which is not to say that we don’t go out to eat once in a while and really throw caution to the wind, because we do, but in the house I want my kids to snack on fruits and nuts and cheeses.

Pea’s insulated lunch-bag finally arrived yesterday, so I can really get creative with what I pack her to eat now. No more strawberries and crackers for this kid. Now, I’m searching for recipes that include ingredients like chickpeas and feta cheese and brown rice. It sounds completely nerdy, but I have fantasized about the special lunches I would send my kids off to school with since before I even had kids. Memories of brown bag lunches from my own childhood are just not that fond. As the daughter of a working single mother, if my lunch wasn’t completely forgotten, it usually consisted of a soggy American cheese sandwich and a piece of fruit, neither of which was ever eaten. Not by myself, at least. Those sorry lunches segued into grape Nehi and barbecue Fritos in high school, a meal which I ate five days a week for four years.

My mother was not a cook, although ironically she was a gourmet chef. When she and my father were married, she was the typical corporate wife, catering meals herself, meant to impress the boss and his wife. But it turns out that as good of a cook as she was, she didn’t enjoy it. And so she stopped cooking, and meals in our household became things like: spaghetti with Ragu, tortilla chips with microwaved American cheese slices on top and a lot, I mean a lot, of “Hungry Man” fried chicken dinners. You remember the ones, with the weird applesauce dessert that would burn the roof of your mouth every time because it had been nuked for minutes and minutes.

Maybe that’s why it’s so important to me to cook three squares a day now for my own family. It doesn’t happen every day, but it happens most days. I love to cook. I love cooking Thanksgiving and Christmas meals. I cook for birthdays and anniversaries. I just love finding fresh ingredients at the store and figuring out how to work it into a meal. I read cookbooks cover to cover in the bathtub at night. And I really think this is what has inspired Pea (and hopefully will inspire Coco) to be such, well… an inspired eater.