Nachos.

Art has always been a particular eater.  Like many kids his age, he does not like his foods to touch, he is very picky about textures (does not like sour cream, peanut or any other nut butter, hummus, or any other smooth, creamy thing like that) and resistant to new meals.  He doesn't even like hamburgers.  Go figure.  But there is a meal he devours in heaping forkfuls that breaks seemingly all of his rules.  Nachos.

Our nachos are really more like deconstructed tacos by design.  I figured he would not want everything piled on together so we would bake the chips over refried beans with grated cheese on top and, hopefully, a little bit of beans would make it into his belly by way of the chips.  Offered as accompaniments are chopped lettuce, tomatoes, olives and salsa but I was doubtful he would want to pile those on.  Wrong.  First time we made nachos (out of desperation - I was scraping the bottom of the barrel dinner-wise) he put all the extras on and literally shoveled it in.  "This is the best dinner ever!  We should eat this EVERY night!"

Tonight we had nachos for the third time in his life.  He piled on lettuce and tomatoes and olives, licked the spoon that was coated with beans and didn't eat a single chip.  "I just like the cheese," he said, peeling it off of one.  Here are the pictures to prove that even the lettuce, or salad as he called it, was part of his smörgåsbord.