Most mornings I make a shake for Robbi and me. The kids watch as I pile all sorts of things into the blender: frozen fruit, protein powder, cacao, chia, yogurt, ginger, honey, and ice cubes. As far as they can tell, I’m just making it up as I go along, grabbing a little bit of this and a little bit of that and hoping for the best.
This morning, after I was done making my shake, they asked me if they could make a shake, too.
“What should we put in it?” I asked.
“Carrots!” said Alden.
I was impressed with her sense of adventure. It had never occurred to me to put carrots in a shake. But I was in an adventurous mood.
In went the carrots.
Perhaps sensing the opportunity to seize on an orange theme, Augie next suggested Goldfish.
Could you have denied him? I didn’t think so.
Alden’s next suggestion raised the stakes. Considerably.
One slice of Genoa salami added for…protein? There are various ways to rationalize this particular choice.
Next up? A hot dog bun. As a chaser, perhaps?
Alden tore the bun into small pieces before putting it in the blender. So as not to overtax the blades, I suppose.
Things were looking really delicious at this point.
But we were not done. No indeed. What is a salami shake without a hint of sweet.
Melts in your mouth but can also be completely pulverized in the Vitamix.
Three kids times three M&Ms each made their way into the increasingly curious blend.
Kato decided the carb balance was not quite right and decided to add a handful of Honey Nut Cheerios.
At that point Alden declared that the shake was complete.
Vigorous blending ensued.
I poured out three small glasses for my young culinary entrepreneurs. Kato took the first taste.
His reaction was unguarded.
His verdict was unambiguous.
Alden refused to learn from her brother’s mistakes.
But she could not help but share his conclusions.
Augie, who is the most buoyant and optimistic of my children, decided that he would issue the official verdict.
To our utter surprise, he liked it. Or claimed to, at least.
I rather wonder if he wasn’t just putting a positive spin on things. I will note as a parting observation that he did not take another sip. As they skipped across the room for their next adventure, I emptied three small glasses of failed science into the disposal, lamenting the tragic loss of those nine M&Ms.
I was also allowed to “vote” and it actually (literally, literally!) tasted like vomit. I don’t know if it would have been better or worse if I had known what was in it when I tasted it.
So many times, I’ve had this lesson, yet I never seem to learn it: Everything I like doesn’t necessarily taste good when mixed together.