Extreme Naval-Gazing ahead. You’ve been warned.
I’m a picky eater. Which is funny, because I’m fat- so I obviously and conspicuously have no problem finding food to eat- it’s just that my preferences are… um… strong. Most of my family and friends (including my internet besties) know about my disregard for peanut butter, watermelon, cotton candy and marshmallows. I’ve been vocal there- but I’ve been thinking- and there are a lot more things on my list of “No Thanks” than just those…
Jell-O: this seems to have been passed on chromosomally to my kids. Abby actually gags on it, Jeffrey won’t touch it, and Beanie says he likes it, but then just sit and pokes at it for a while, finally getting up and leaving it. I hate Jell-O. All flavors, all kinds- and if you mix stuff in with it, it goes from being merely unappetizing to utterly wretched. Don’t argue with me. Don’t tell me if I tried YOURS I would like it. The only Jell-O I’ve ever even partially liked came with pretzels and cream cheese. And I picked most of the red Jell-O layer off.
Which brings me to my next item- Hard Pretzels. Ick. Why? Why do people like these? There is just something so… wrong about them. Like little giraffe necks, with their beaded salt globules and cardboard tastelessness. Nope.
Brownies: Yeah, I know, I know. I don’t hate brownies- I mean, I could eat one if I were jonesing for sugar and there was nothing else, but I will never, ever seek one out, nor will I pay for one. No matter what. And if it has nuts in it? Not in a million years. NO nuts.
Which brings me to walnuts. My mother loves them, and packed them in baked goods my whole childhood. Walnuts are bitter, they sting, and the tannins are sour. Like I want that all over my food?
Macaroni or other cold past salad. Something about the cold mayonnaise on the noodles- with the inevitable celery and … and… just ew.
Once in a great while I will have a hamburger, or a thin, thin slice of flank steak. But seriously? If there is any other choice in a five minute radius? The red meat loses out. The smell, the texture, the smell… the texture… nope. In restaurants, to this day, I order vegetarian whenever possible. ANYTHING with tendons or bones- I just cannot. At home the only way I can deal with cooking chicken is to buy the frozen boneless skinless pink icy tenders. Then I don’t even have to touch them- just use the tongs and pop them in the pan. Once I left the kitchen in tears while David cut up a whole chicken to make soup from. I’m a wuss.
Ice cream with chunks in it- unless it’s Cherry Garcia.
Banana, zucchini, or other kinds of quick-breads. Not even when I was a kid did I like these- and my kids are looking like they inherited that too. Serves me right… I made banana bread yesterday (no walnuts, of course) and gave all three loaves to neighbors and friends.
Plums, nectarines, peaches or other stone fruit (besides cherries, which I love). The pit of a peach or a nectarine gives me the yeeshies. It’s like those lotus-pods, and I HATE those- absolutely HATE THEM. I won’t even eat peach pie. I make a mean one, I’m told, but I won’t touch it. Neither will my kids.
(Maybe I’m the reason they’re so picky…? Hmmmm… never thought of that…)
A few things I particularly adore: Cheese, bread with no bumps, anything LEMON, the smell of grapefruit, cheese, salt, olives, cheese, yeast bread, butter, raspberries, cherries, blackberries, lettuce, wintergreen, nutmeg, licorice, tomatoes- all of them, cheese, bread, butter, cheese…. hmmmmm. I could live forever on a cheese platter with a smattering of fruit, a dolop of honey, some olives and some crusty, seedy, sourdough twists. FOREVER.