Do y’all know a picky eater? I’ve never been a picky eater. Lordy, one look at me will tell you that! I’m a bona fide member of the Clean Plate Club. I’m happy to eat healthy vegetables and fruits, and I love my bacon, too! I’m not fond of “organ” meats, but other than that I’ll try darn near anything. Perhaps because of that I’m not as sympathetic as I should be when folks have strong preferences about their food. I can understand choosing foods because of health concerns, but other than that, it’s all fair game.
I didn’t have much problem with my children’s eating habits when they were growing up. They were willing to eat anything I put on their plates (they also ate Crayolas, dirt and cat food, but that’s another story). Well, they were willing to eat what I served until they became teenagers. Then, things got a little wacky at mealtime (actually, with teenagers things were wacky ALL the time). One boy eschewed meat and became a vegetarian and the other morphed into a rabid carnivore. At mealtime, I just had to make sure I had plenty of both vegetables and meat, but I never had to worry that there would be leftovers. They scarfed it all up.
If you parents of small children are worried about your children’s eating habits, don’t be. One of my boys, unbeknown to me, ate French fries (that’s all) for lunch every day for an entire school year. He grew up just fine.
Until I met my Sweet Spousal Unit (that would be my SSU), I hadn’t really had to deal with a picky eater. He would not call himself “picky,” he’d say “discriminating.” And, I have to tell you that I don’t care for discrimination of any kind—especially when it’s about my cooking! That boy is NOT a member of the Clean Plate Club, I guarantee! Unless, of course, the plate is filled with steak.
The first indication of his idiosyncrasies at mealtime came when we had a date and decided to sit at the Sonic Drive-In to have hamburgers and share an order of fries from the sack. I took a couple of bites of my hamburger, a sip or two of Coca Cola, and then I reached for a French fry. They were gone! He hadn’t taken a single bite of his hamburger and had eaten all the fries. When I called him on it, he was chagrined. No, he was mortified. He apologized profusely and explained that he always ate his vegetables first. His and mine!
It turns out that when he was a kid, he didn’t like vegetables and his Momma forced him to eat them. The only way he could make the mealtimes enjoyable was to save the meat for “dessert.” I can live with that, but don’t get my French fries, Big Guy! Since then, I’ve learned that if we “share,” I get my portion away from him!
If that was the only “peculiarity” to his eating habits, I wouldn’t chide him. However, I noticed others when I started cooking for him. I absolutely love to eat a baked sweet potato that has a swimming pool of butter in the center of it. It’s part of what I want for my last meal before I leave this earth. My SSU cringes at the site of a sweet potato. He cannot look a sweet potato in the eye (so to speak). This man was born in Charlotte, North Carolina, so you would think he could eat sweet potatoes. I mean, it’s a “Southern thang” and all. But, nooo! He gags when I eat sweet potato in front of him. So, I sit behind him. He’s not gonna stop this gal from eating sweet potatoes. I think his problem is that he grew up in California! Those people out there don’t eat the same foods the rest of the Nation does.
It’s not just sweet potatoes, though, it’s anything yellow or orange. He’s not that fond of carrots (though he will eat them raw), nor does he love pumpkin, and prefers not to touch summer squash. In fact he doesn’t like squash of any kind. Dang! He sure cut into my repertoire of recipes.
He was not proud to partake of my pecan pie. He doesn’t like pecan pie! Incredible! In fact, he didn’t care for pie much at all until recently. I don’t know whether the “calf slobber” (meringue) bothered him, or what.
I fried okra for him, and at first he wouldn’t try it. Then, he smelled the bacon that I fry so that I have grease for the okra. He took a taste, and now I have to cook a double batch when I fry it. As long as I get my share, I’m glad that he learned to like it.
Recently, I made a BIG mistake. I mean HUGE. We went to eat at a Mexican food restaurant. My SSU never would eat guacamole. I didn’t mind, because if it came on a plate, he gave his to me. I ordered Guacamole en Molcajete (which basically means they prepare it at your table in a bowl that looks like a mortar and pestle). Since he didn’t like guacamole, I just placed a “half-order.”
Well, y’all I started wolfin’ that down, and I guess that when I moaned and my eyes rolled back in my head in ecstasy, my SSU thought, “I’ll have what she’s having!”
I guess the “moral” to my story (if y’all think you need morals) is that if you have a picky eater in your family, don’t try to change them. If they won’t eat it, it leaves more for you!
The Parent Bloggers Network and Deceptively Delicious are sponsoring a Blog Blast writer’s contest this week. Do you have a picky eater in your family? If so, you might want to write about it and enter for a chance to win in a random drawing.
I’m hoping I have some luck with a random drawing. I entered a “judged” contest last week that was sponsored by Sick of Lawsuits. I told about a hemorrhoid cream. 😯 I haven’t heard who won. I sure wanted that money! Should I file a lawsuit, ya think? I don’t know, maybe I didn’t deserve it. There was some awesome competition. Check them out for a laugh: