The first thing you should know about this book is that it is a cultural history written by a historian. Viet is an expert in the history of food and its attendant social, and familial ramifications, with some detours into psychology. Veit has clearly done an enormous amount of research into what people have eaten, and how those practices and patterns have evolved over decades or even centuries. The first couple of chapters are just that: examples of foods eaten by people, largely in North America in the last century or so, but also include reports of diets in communities across the globe. Veit’s premise is that in the nineteenth and early twentieth century, kids ate exactly what their parents ate. They loved vegetables. They drank coffee. They loved spicy, heavily salted or preserved foods. They ate what was on the table and they liked it. There was no pickiness.
Then, enter the “experts” – the quotation marks are Veit’s. In an era lacking antibiotics or other effective medications, many children (and adults) died of a variety of diseases. Some children, notably indigenous, minority, or immigrant children, faced poverty and insufficient nutrition. “Nutrition scientists” (again, Veit’s quote marks) began to explore the benefit or dangers of diet. Nursing a sick child seemed to demand special foods: bland, mild foods that would not upset a child’s “delicate digestion,” or “strengthening” foods like liver or meat broths. Children’s digestive systems were seen to be special, different from adults. Nuts and fiber were said to be dangerous; whole grains would “disarrange” a child’s intestines. Vegetables should be boiled into mush. Granted, much of this advice was wrong-headed, so many of these experts deserved Veit’s scare quotes. By the 1930s, parents were subject to an onslaught of advice, warnings, recommendations, and rules about what their kids should eat, how much and when. I especially loved a recommended children’s menu comprising Creamed Calves Brains on Toast, Stuffed Prune Salad, Lima Bean Casserole, Red-Hot Bananas, and Liver-Paste Sandwiches. I couldn’t resist checking the reference on that, which curiously cited an article by Dr. Morris Fishbein (among others), head of the American Medical Association, which said nothing at all about these delicious recipes. Hmm.
There is actually a wealth of fascinating material in subsequent chapters, covering the pressure placed on parents regarding what to feed their kids. One small 2-year study of motherless children living in a hospital for two years laid out an array of fruits, vegetables, whole grains, meats raw and cooked, and let them free feed entirely independently. They ate everything. They thrived. One boy ate liver for breakfast every day, till he got tired of it and switched to something else. The media went wild, shouting that this proved that you should should let your kids eat whatever they wanted and it would be fine… ignoring the fact that the foods offered were all wholesome, healthful choices. So yes, they did well.
On to the 1950s, with the appearance of Dr. Spock and his gentler, more permissive, friendly advice. A convinced Freudian, he urged that forcing a reluctant child to eat something she did not like was cruel and could cause deep psychological damage. What were anxious parents (read: mothers) to do? The advice was pouring in from all sides, and if you didn’t make sure your child ate the right foods in the right way, you were a lousy parent and might be damaging your child irreparably.
Enter the sea change in food availability and marketing. With technological progress, most families had refrigerators and convenient stoves and ovens. Foods that had been limited to certain regions or seasons were now available year round and locally. Choices exploded in expanding grocery stores. Kids were towed along the aisles of A&P. And the marketers starting adding sugars, salt, preservatives, and cartoon characters on the labeling. “Mom! Buy me THAT cereal!” And a whole new wave of “kid foods” poured across the country.
And so, here we are. So many choices, many of them less than healthy. If a kid refused the veggies on the dinner table, he’d be offered snacks to tide him over till morning. If he didn’t like a particular food, it would vanish from the repertoire – he won! As one boy put it: “If I don’t like what Mom buys, she has to eat it herself.”
Veit concludes that the appropriate response to a picky child is to repeatedly offer a disliked food, to the extent of “popping it right into the child’s mouth” until the child “learns to like it.” She believes any kid can be taught to like pretty much anything: witness the huge variety of foods kids scarfed down and loved in the last century. She makes no mention at all of children with developmental disorders, such as autism. Her sources lean heavily on newspaper and magazine articles, historical documents, letters, cookbooks – and comparatively few actual medical studies, while she frequently mentions a lack of studies to support ideas that she criticizes. A cursory search of PubMed (“picky and (eating or eaters)” in article titles) produced nearly two hundred articles, delving into nutritional, health status, management, psychological and developmental aspects of the picky eater. It is not clear that Veit has examined this literature in as much depth as the problem warrants. In this day of scientific evidence being all too readily dismissed or challenged, her final advice in the epilogue is troubling. While there is much to admire in the detailed presentation of the effects of history, culture, society, and corporate and technological developments on the issue of food aversions and picky eating in today’s children, this book is not one that offers much in the way of recommendations to worried parents of those kids. Conversations with knowledgeable pediatricians, psychologists, and nutrition specialists would be an essential addition for those concerned parents.
I thank NetGalley for an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.