I first took my toddler out to lunch when she was 14 months old. Mostly, I was craving a sandwich from Sequoia Sandwich Company. My baby didn’t really eat, but I thought it might be fun to establish a tradition of going out to lunch, just the two of us, that would reach into her teenage years.

I did not order anything for her. I got myself a chicken fajita sandwich (an item that is no longer on the menu, I regret to inform you, although many other delicious options are) and sat down to enjoy. I gave her a piece of chicken and let her dip it in the sour cream.

And you would have thought I had given her the moon. She loved the moon. There were two things she loved at this age besides dogs: Busses and the moon. Any time we saw one, she would shout hysterically, “Bus! Bus!” or “Moon!” like we needed to hurry up and look, or we would miss the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see that GET bus or school bus or crescent orb in the sky. So, when I say I had “given her the moon,” you need to know that it was a big deal.

She loved that chicken.

Mostly, I think she loved the sour cream. She dipped her few pieces of chicken in so much sour cream that we had to ask for more.

And so was born our Sequoia Sandwich habit. From then on, every time we would visit Sequoia, I would order the chicken fajita sandwich, and she would eat half the chicken and at least one full container of sour cream.

One day when she was about three, I decided to risk it and buy a bag of chips to go with my chicken fajita sandwich. This poor child had not had chips before, so she didn’t even bat an eye when I picked up the yellow bag of salty goodness.

Three or four lunches passed without incident until one day she caught me.

“Wa’s dat?” she asked, and I knew my days of not sharing were over.

“These are chips,” I said, trying to act like it was no big deal, but of course, she wanted to try one. “I don’t know if you’ll like them,” I said, more hopeful than truthful.

Of course, she loved them. Who wouldn’t? This was back when Sequoia still had the “Dirty” potato chips, and she ended up loving them as much as I did.

After just one chip, she wanted more and more and more. I finally had to say, “Take another bite of chicken first.”

She did. Then another chip.

Then chicken. Then chip. Chicken, chip. Chicken, chip.

Then a rule was born: “Chicken, chicken, chip.”

For as long as Sequoia had their chicken fajita sandwich (which was years), she would eat half my chicken, all my sour cream, and all of it between chips.

Chicken, chicken, chip.

Eventually, we started widening out and trying different sandwiches. Now she is a teenager, and we still visit Sequoia Sandwich Company every now and then. She gets the Southwestern Chicken Sandwich every time. She eats the bread now, too, but she still dips every bite into a container (or two) of sour cream. And while we both miss the “Dirty” potato chips, I still see her eating chicken, chicken, chip as we enjoy our lunch out.