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Feeding people is hard. I’m not just referring to children who are devotees to the almighty dinosaur chicken nuggets. No, I’m talking about people in general: we might like to pretend that picky eaters grow out of their rigid food preferences by adulthood, but we all know that isn’t the case.
For example, I have a relative that hasn’t ingested a green vegetable since he was two. He essentially lives on peanut butter, waffles, chicken nuggets, ketchup and french fries, and I’m still trying to figure out how his body functions at all. Sometimes I try to trick him into eating something healthy, like the time I made cauliflower wings and told him they were regular chicken wings.