Confessions of a (former) Picky Eater: Part I

I will be the first to admit that my lifelong track record of eating what is set before me isn't very good.  Food was a great source of anxiety for me growing up.  Doubly so at new restaurants or other people's houses.  My parents tried, but forcing me to try new things didn't work well with my refined gag reflex.

So what changed? Several things. As I got older, the idea of offending my host became worse than going hungry.  So in the most dire situations I would determine to find as much edible on my plate as possible.  I still had a raging mental block about food, though.  It didn't matter if it looked or smelled good; new food was icky.  So I set easy goals.  There was no way I was going to adopt "I'll try anything once."  So I settled for "I'll try one new thing per situation."  That way my disgust level wouldn't be overwhelmed by the mere thought of all the icky food.

I also built up slow.  I discovered early on that foods in the same category tended to be similar, especially in texture which is where most of my trouble came.  So, if I could eat one type of bread, surely the others aren't that bad, right?  Granted I had my limits—pumpernickel, rye.  But tortillas and naan were good to go.  Same with meats, although I scraped most of the sauce or gravy off. (Turns out I'm more of an au jus kind of girl.)  Finding ways to add dishes to my repertoire of consumption gave me more options and a confidence boost.

It's a sad state of affairs when vegetables are the most disliked foods in our society. And I was no different. This was my biggest obstacle.  All my previous progress had served to make me "less picky." I wanted more for myself.  Cooking is a big part of my family life and I was tired of limiting the dinner menu.  Plus, I've always found food sort of interesting.  I mean, it looks good, smells good.  Why can't it taste good?

I accidentally happened down a path that is actually the best way to conquer food fears: I took an interest, then became immersed.  It started with Food Network.  My interest in food TV can be explained by only one thing: consistent programming.  I'm not into sports, but growing up my dad would put on golf as something to nap to.  Food programs were generally soothing if I wanted something on in the background for a lazy afternoon.  Some of the evening shows were even exciting!  But I was also interested.  These shows taught skills that I had never been interested in learning from my mother or grandmothers and then some.  Maybe if I made food like the professionals it would taste good.

That step actually went on straight thru college.  I watched food, but I didn't eat it.  I kept adding slowly using my assimilate-like-things method and another method where the offending food would be in such small bits that I couldn't eat around it and eventually came to tolerate it.  But I wasn't trying hard to add to my list.  Dorm living does not a foodie make.

My real break thru came after college.

Guy Movies: An Evaluation

Some things bear looking at more closely in my post about the top 100 Guy Movies.

1. Guys feel the need to codify their special club. In the past there were gentlemen's clubs, secret societies, and coming of age rituals. Now we have the Bro Code, fraternities, and boy scouts.  Any female version always comes after and imitates these guy clubs.  But I don't think girls have such a strong drive to codify their gender. (Maybe they do, but sexism has squelched it over the centuries?) The idea of becoming a man by accomplishing a list of tasks or having a list of traits is one that will probably stick around a while longer.

2. Post-Its are the best way to order a list of items.

3. Going by number of appearances on the list, Harrison Ford is the most manly, followed by Brad Pitt.

4.We really have Clint Eastwood and Paul Newman to thank for this genre.

5. Very few sequels are as good or better than the original, and most of those have Harrison Ford.

6. Want to keep a group of guys busy? Give them Post-Its and something needing hierarchy.

7. Waiting to publish a post until after you upload pics makes for a very after-the-fact post.

Try and Try Again

I've been on a reading binge the last two weeks, but instead of working on reviews and a way over due follow up post to my movie list, I will instead proceed to write about all the books on my shelf that will never get a post to themselves.

I try to read and recommend classics that are accessible and a bit marginalized compared to the 'greats' that you will see on most every reading list.  (Say, The Scarlet Pimpernel over The Old Man and the Sea.)  But I occasionally attempt those books too. Usually to the same results.

You see, when I was in middle school or high school, I thought it would be great fun to read The Three Musketeers. I tried and managed to slog through most of the book before I got so completely frustrated by the plot that I gave up. (I had pretty specific needs about good defeating evil in the narrative. Something I still struggle with.)  Sometime later I decided that to be so close to the end and give up was just ridiculous.  The problem was that I couldn't remember what had happened up to that point (or where that point was; both times I checked a copy out from the library) so I had to start over. I finished it the second time through.

This experience did two things for me:
1. I came up with the theory that Dumas can only write a good first half of a book. (More on this later.)
2. There are certain books that are Two-Attempters.

Sadly, I have given very few of these books the benefit of a second attempt.  Sense and Sensibility was more of a restart (only after I saw the movie and knew it was going to go somewhere).  There are a few books that I have tried to re-read after having completed them once, only to abandon them on the second time through.  Les Mis (abridged no less!) was the most notable one of these.

I have a LOT of books on my shelves (and others I've checked out or borrowed over the years) that I have never finished. Most of the books are definitely two-attempters, but I simply haven't made the attempt.  (The ones with really well known story-lines I plan on finishing even if I can't remember all the previous details. I have a lot of bookmarks.)  I collected them all because I am a sucker for cheap classics.  (There are even more that I have never started.)  These are the ranks of the unfinished:
Swiss Family Robinson, The Last Battle, Robinson Crusoe, Gulliver's Travels, Oliver Twist, The Toilers of the Sea (another Hugo), A Pair of Blue Eyes, The Second Jungle Book, And Then There Were None, The Grapes of Wrath, The Lady of the Camellias...

A brief word about The Count of Monte Cristo.  I attempted this book after finally finishing Musketeers. The opening chapters are cinematic in there scope and vivid storytelling.  But the further into the book I got the more bogged down in felt.  Pretty soon I was in chapters so convoluted I had no idea what was happening or why.  I skipped to the end to see if it was worth my time.  For my narrative needs, it appeared Dumas had ended another book on a 'meh' note.  And yet the first half ranks among my favorite books of all time.  I plan to finish it one day (I may appreciate it more than I did in high school) and read the other great works of Dumas, pere.  I just have low expectations for most of it.

There are probably more I'm forgetting or no longer own.  Each was abandoned for unique reasons.  However, as a general rule I read for pleasure.  And I'm not an English lit buff that gets my kicks from reading Faulkner. So, this is not meant to diminish the greatness of these works. I just couldn't get into them.

In Defense of Eating

Michael Pollan's work has been to illuminate the food culture that Americans are currently mired in. My first encounter with him was in Food Rules.  In addition to Food Rules, The Omnivore's Dilemma and In Defense of Food round out his works on what and how we should go about eating. The latter two are both groundbreaking in the way they look at the mistakes we have made as a culture and society when it comes to eating.

I have recently completed In Defense of Food (and only just started Omnivore's Dilemma).  There was one thing that jumped out to me beyond the general advice on how to eat healthy.  Which was: eat—enjoy eating—eat for pleasure. The idea that food should be delicious and pleasurable balks at a national consciousness that still holds a Puritanical definition of gluttony. We fuel ourselves like we fuel our cars; if we are responsible, we take into account chemical composition and environmental impact.

Turns out, when you strip away culture and flavor and tradition you aren't left with food at all. Our culture has experts and scientists telling us what to eat. No other culture in history needed that. They knew what to eat because their parents knew.  Michael Pollan dwells a lot on this idea.  Culture and tradition are important to health.  So are family and connecting to food beyond items in a grocery store.

But the immediate take away lesson for me was pleasure.  Americans have a hard time eating less. Each new "super food" is simply added to the diet without removing something else.  But there is something everyone can do the next time, and every time, they eat.  Enjoy yourself.  Make something you love. [OK, learning curve here, but when you start to see cooking as a vehicle for the pleasure of eating it's less odious to take the time to learn a few new skills.] Sit down at a table with a few friends and a bottle of something else you love. And enjoy.

It turns out, the more you savor your food the less of it you eat before you start to feel full.  And if you plan on savoring food, you aren't like to buy something that becomes inedible if not eaten in the first thirty seconds (I'm looking at you, McDonald's fries).  Diets are something we dread. Eating for pleasure becomes an adventure, takes the fear out of eating.

It is all we need to be healthy? No. But it's a start. And it may be the most fun you ever have with a diet.