R. Kent, Food Critic

After observing the fact that Kent is often quite skeptical of the food we put on his high chair tray for him to pick up and eat, Jack surmised yesterday that perhaps Kent will become a food critic. His motto: "I'll try anything once!" After that, it'll be on the floor. Imagine an actual food critic doing that. It would be awesome.

So this morning, I made some special Kent-sized pancakes from my grandmother's sourdough pancake recipe. I have sourdough starter from her, which she actually got in San Francisco (so it's REAL sourdough starter) several decades ago. It's like the Apostolic Succession of sourdough starter, and besides its history, the best thing about it is that it's not the kind you have to feed — it just sits patiently in the fridge between uses, even if months pass without use (though that never happens around here). Anyway, these were Kent's first pancakes ever. He toyed around with them for several minutes, enjoying the feel of them between his fingers but not completely trusting those suspicious little disks.

Then he started cramming them into his mouth. He got about half of one in there, which I captured on a video that will soon appear on his site (check back soon). He chewed it a little and swallowed, and then he picked up another one and stuffed it whole into his mouth. Jack had just finished telling me a story about how he crammed an entire banana into his mouth when he was a kid, so I again marveled at the similar behaviors between my son and his crazy dad. The pancake was a little more than he could fit in there, so parts of it were falling out, but it was quite hilarious and exciting, as you can see.

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Too funny! I love your grandmother's pancakes, yum.
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