In the middle of my breakfast table sits a giant platter of fruit. The standard inhabitants of this silver platter are bananas, apples and oranges. They’re generally accompanied by grapes and plums (and whatever else is seasonally available) in the fridge. What’s sad is that when the fruit is whole and available in plain view, no one eats it but me. No matter how I arrange it or how high I stack it, the fruit is abandoned. Forlorn. Left to whither away on it’s elegant perch.
This makes no sense to me. It’s washed and ready to be snatched up and enjoyed. Plus, it’s right there on the table where the boys eat all of their meals, not tucked away in some corner. It’s not that they don’t love fruit, it’s simply that for whatever reason, fruit in its natural form doesn’t appeal to them unless I pack it in their bags to eat when they’re out.
Last week, I did an experiment. I abandoned my job as a fruit peddler (I’ve got bananas up here…apples too…washed and ready to eat…anyone want an orange?…fresh from the Florida groves…) and instead, I cut the fruit up into bite sized pieces and put it in a tupperware with a splash of orange juice (to keep the apples and bananas from getting discolored).
In the tupperware you see above, I chopped up two apples, two oranges, 1 (big) banana and a bunch of grapes. That’s 7 servings of fruit. At dinner last night, I casually placed it on the table between the boys and handed them each a fork.
While I can’t begin to fathom why a fruit salad is so much more appealing than the platter of fruit, they ate the entire bowl and professed their deep love of fruit. I just shook my head ruefully and made a mental note that from now on, I’d take the extra 2 minutes to throw the fruit salad together so that the men in my life will get the fresh produce that they need…
…then I went back to my booze and salty chips since no one around here monitors my fruit intake.
Just kidding, naturally.