tzatziki
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“Come on, just try a little bit.” Jack said. Mary watched the proceedings with mild amusement.
“No. It’s yucky.” Billy said.
“How do you know if you’ve never tried it?”
“Because I do.” The child insisted.
“Come on, buddy. It’s really good, I promise.”
Jack took a small slice of pita bread and dipped it into the paired sauce. Billy watched his father like a hawk as he ate the appetizer. The boy did not seem convinced. Since the food was not brightly colored or dinosaur shaped, he wanted none of it.
“No.” Billy said firmly.
He crossed his arms and pouted. It was the pout that only a young child could manage that was equal parts incredibly endearing and endlessly frustrating. Jack looked at his wife for support. She held up her hands with a smirk on her face.
“Hey, don’t look at me. This was your idea. You get him to eat it.” She said. Jack took a deep breath.
“Hey, buddy, do you know what this is?”
“It’s yucky stuff.” Billy insisted.
“No it’s not. It’s…it’s like your yogurt snack.” Jack said. Mary raised an eyebrow. Jack shrugged. “Well, it has yogurt in it.”
Billy looked at the small container critically. “Really? It doesn’t look like it.”
“Yup. Come on, just try a little bit and if you don’t like it, I won’t ask you again.”
Billy looked conflicted. Jack swore the rest of the restaurant grew quiet as his son contemplated whether it was worth the risk or not. The child looked from father to food and back again. Then he took one of the smaller pieces of bread and dipped just a tiny bit of it in the sauce. It was barely enough to even see. Probably not enough to taste.
“Come on, you can do a little more than that.” Jack urged.
Billy looked nervous as he put more of the pita into the serving cup. It came out with just enough register as a flavor. Jack nodded encouragingly as Billy brought it to his mouth and bit into it. It looked like he was in pain as he began to chew.
Then his eyes opened wide. Jack could see the gears turning as a whole new world opened up before his son. He immediately lashed out and plunged the bread into it and took a much bigger bite. Jack let out a breath of relief.
“See? I told you it was good.” Jack said.
“Uh-huh.” Billy said around a mouthful of bread and tzatziki.
“Now, when I say something is good and that you should try it, will you do it?”
Billy paused his chewing to think as hard as a six-year-old could. He went to open his mouth to answer, but a quick look at his mother told him to swallow first.
“I dunno. I guess so.” He said slowly.
It was about as good as he was going to get, so Jack would have to take it.
“Good. That’s what I like to hear. Remember that when you pick out your dinner, okay?”
“Okay.”
Jack knew his son would most likely just get the hamburger off the kid’s menu. But just him trying the sauce was a step forward, so he would accept some familiarity in his son’s diet. Getting his boy to be more adventurous with food would be a long, slow journey, but one well worth taking.
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It's not my favorite condiment, I'll admit that. It's fine every now and then, but not my go to. Then again, that may be because there's no super good Greek places near me, so I haven't really had any of the high quality stuff. That probably has something to do with it.
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