The kids have grown up and have developed more sophisticated tastes… along with the rest of the world

Maybe that little rectangular container of mustard powder is the cause. The container I take out every Erev Pesach when I clean out the spice rack, dust off, and then put right back… for years. Maybe it’s because my kids won’t eat anything with specks, dots, spots, or other unidentifiable ingredients mixed in.

Whatever the root cause, I’ve been unusually resistant to the (not-so) recent craze-turned-trend of restaurant-quality, gourmet home cooking. I’m the typical late-adopter. By the time I finally caught on to Craisins in salad, the masses had moved on to mango and hearts of palm.

I tended to read recipes for the entertainment value and marvel at all the outlandish ingredients they called for. Then I’d go ahead and prep our dinner of plain baked potatoes and grilled chicken — knowing that at least this was one combination the kids would eat without complaint.

I recently attended a wedding. The first 20 minutes of dinner conversation revolved around trying to identify what we were eating as an appetizer. We finally established that it was farro topped with shredded meat, garnished with tiny potato balls, cubed mango, sprouts, and at least three more mysterious ingredients. I’d always been perfectly happy with those puffed pastry triangles with mushroom sauce.

But clearly, times have changed. The kids have grown up and have developed more sophisticated tastes… along with the rest of the world. And I was starting to feel left behind.