I was puzzling over this with my Mum the other day. She's horrified by the poor diet of my sibling and the grandkids, stereotypical Scottish stodge, veg a grudging duty, very picky etc. She's equally bemused that for me a meal is a plate of colourful vegetables, plus pulses, or maybe a little fish or meat if I can afford it, failing either, a small amount of rice/pasta/potato. How did her kids end up with opposite extreme food preferences when she fed us the same traditional diet of meat/fish+two veg growing up?
Except. We were both born abroad (to white Scots parents); I was 5 when I came to Scotland, my sibling only 2. They only had the baby/early weaning phase in the tropics, whereas I had all the formative food years, incl. age 2-5 being largely cared for by local women and eating local food. It's anecdata, but it seems to have hardwired into me that a feast is vegetables and fish and fruit, comfort food is rice, and heaven is a perfectly ripe mango fresh from the tree out back.
Rebelliously, though perhaps poor hosting, I'd be feeding your white British child visitors your preferred foods in hopes of expanding their horizons. Maybe it wouldn't work, because their formative preferences have already been set? Or maybe one of them is like me, confusingly out of kilter with my earlier childhood experiences. I'd have been overjoyed and felt inexplicably at home in myself to be fed Asian foods in Scotland in the 70's and 80's!
(There was a banana tree too. I am now desperately craving Saba bananas, fried or grilled with butter/honey/syrup. It's been decades. And hello the wee gecko who used to live in a crack in the wall above my bed. And those plants that curl up when you touch them.
There's such privilege in kids who straddle worlds; but perhaps also a perpetual displacement and yearning.)