I feed a notoriously-picky-eater of a ten-year-old five nights a week. At least once a week, I text a photo of his dinner to his working parents. You can bet I sent them last night’s Teriyaki Shrimp in a broth with Snow Peas and Udon, and not tonight’s Two Hotdogs served with a Squiggle of Chilled Catsup.
GRAND EATS
