Fowl Play
If you really are what you eat, my 4-year-old -- like most, I imagine -- would be sporting feathers and a beak. All the food she eats is beige, and the Queen of Beige Cuisine is, of course, the Chicken Finger.
This anatomical anomaly -- a shortening of chicken finger food -- is no longer confined to Mickey D's and the homes of lazy suburban moms like me. It's everywhere, even the rarified Park Slope environs of New York Times reporter/parent David Kamp:
I came to the realization that America is in the grips of a nefarious chicken-finger pandemic, in which a blandly tasty foodstuff has somehow become the de facto official nibble of our young.
These days, even the most sophisticated restaurants have kids' menus, with a list of foodstuff straight out of a Midwestern diner. It's the perfect storm of weary parents and complicit chefs.
Happily, a few chains such as Disney and Ritz-Carlton are starting to break free of the iron claw of the chicken finger. As should we all. Let me know how it goes.
Don't Point That Menu at My Child, Please [NY Times]
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