The Artichoke Fail (And Truly Great Pizza)

For Christmas, my boyfriend gave me a written note promising to take me to a local pizza place that he'd been to and really liked.   (He got me a couple other things as well...not just an IOU).  This past weekend, we finally had the chance to go.  I got my mouth all set for pizza, and we headed over there.  Unfortunately, when we arrived, we discovered that they had gone out of business! What a bummer! I hate when little local places can't make it.  :(  We were both really disappointed, but I think he was even more so.  He'd been so excited to take me.  After deciding that we still were in the mood for really good pizza, we headed over to one of our favorite pizza places.  Tony Sacco's is a chain, but they make some amazing pizza.  They use a big coal fired oven, and the crust is perfect.  We perused the menu for a bit, and then settled on the Marco Polo pizza. 

Let me tell you, I find going to new pizza places so much more exciting than I used to.  A couple years ago, it would not have mattered what the place was, I would have been ordering a cheese or pepperoni and cheese pizza.  There are so many more options open to me now! It's a good thing to because Mr. Boyfriend doesn't think a cheese or pepperoni and cheese pizza is worth much.  He needs more interesting toppings. The Marco Polo pizza held tomato sauce, chicken, artichoke, and sundried tomato.  I think I had artichoke once before on a pizza at Big Al's, but I couldn't really taste it.  It had been the most bland pizza I'd ever eaten.  I've had stuff made with sundried tomatos...flat breads and feta and stuff, but I'd not had them on pizza before.  This pizza was a whole new experience for me.  When it came out, I ate several bites of the pizza all together. (I've always been one to eat the toppings first, then the cheese, then the crust...I'm growing out of that on really good pizza, but I still do it at someplace like Domino's or Pizza Hut.) The crust, sauce, chicken, and sundried tomatoes were all amazing.  Honestly, I think Tony Sacco's is my favorite pizza place I've tried yet.  It was so delicious.  However, the more I ate it, the more the taste of the artichoke bothered me.  I picked a little off to try on it's own to make sure that's what it was, and yes...ick.  My boyfriend, who loves artichoke, said it had a funny taste to it, so I'm hoping that there is still hope for me to like artichoke someday.  Saturday was not the day though.  I ended up picking most of the artichoke off the pizza.  Thankfully, the pizza was delicious enough to make up for the icky artichoke.  We even ate the leftovers warmed up for dinner that night.

Veggies

I feel like I'm running out of vegetables to try.  I recently tried asparagus and found that it was delicious.  My grocery store does these dinner samples every afternoon.  They make up a full dinner and put out little plates for testing.  Then they give out a recipe card and have an area there where you can find all the things needed for the meal together.  One night they made some kind of chicken with asparagus.  I really liked it. 

I suppose I need to try brussel sprouts and radishes.  I'm not sure what else.  So far, I haven't tried a lot of vegetables that I've really hated.  In fact, I can't think of any off the top of my head (mushrooms don't count, do they?).  The more I eat vegetables, the more I find that I actually really like them.  They taste good, and they are good for me! What an excellent combo.  I'd like some suggestions for more unusual veggies that I should try.  If you have a favorite way to prepare them, then please share that as well!

Green Beans and Roast

Sometimes I forget that I'm not (or at least am trying not to be) a picky eater anymore.  It's hard to redefine yourself at 30! My picky eating as so much a part of who I was for so many years, it's hard to just let it go.  The other night my mom made a roast for dinner.  Growing up, my mom's roast was the only thing that I was ever forced to eat.  I have no idea why.  I never loved it, but I could get down a few ketchup covered bites...enough to keep my mom happy.  When she made it the other night, I automatically started coming up with my own dinner plans (she no longer makes me eat it...I mean, I am 30).  I made myself a delicious dinner with chicken covered in a pineapple salsa, really yummy green beans, and roasted potatoes.  It wasn't till much later in the evening that I realized that I'd eaten like a picky eater again.  Why didn't I just eat what my mom had made for dinner.  She so seldom actually cooks a meal (she and my dad are pretty content with sandwiches and simple things like that), and it's even more rare that I'm around when she does.  I should have at least tried some.  Who knows, maybe I'd really enjoy it now? 

My own dinner really was yummy though.  The green beans were especially good.  I used to hate green beans, and now I love them! Sometimes I wonder if I'd have been more likely to try vegetables if more of them had been presented to me fresh and in their natural color.  There is nothing appetizing to me (though I will eat them now) about that muted green bean from a can color.  A nice, fresh green bean looks so delicious.  It's bright and crisp and lovely.   I think my first experience with re-trying green beans was at PF Chang's last year.  I tested out their spicy green beans and LOVED them.  I've even tried to copy them at home a couple times.  SO good! After that, I started buying fresh green beans to cook with more often.  They are cheap and plentiful around here, so we eat them a lot.  One of my favorite ways, which I used the other night, is to saute some purple onion and garlic in a little bit of olive oil, and throw in some green beans that have been boiled for about 5 minutes...add a little salt and pepper, and YUM! Try it sometime! My parents had some of the beans I'd made, and they both said they really liked them (though my mom ate around the onion. My pickyness was come by honestly). 

Other Picky Eaters

I am discovering as I become less picky, that picky eaters make life really difficult! I mean, I always knew that I was making it hard on other people, but I guess I never realized just how hard.  I have some pretty picky friends who I occasionally cook for when we all get together.  Coming up with something that will make everyone happy is sometimes almost impossible!  It really is no wonder that the hostess for our weekly get togethers usually ends up making some kind of pasta dish.  Its simple and most people will eat it. (And seriously, hats off to her! She spends her time and money to feed us all nearly every week, and she does a good job of it!)

I'm making dinner tonight for these friends, and coming up with a dinner plan was pretty dang stressful! I still don't know if what I am making is something that people will eat.  I decided on a pulled jerk chicken with a side of sweet potato oven fries.  I'm thinking about adding a few regular potatoes...just in case.  I know bbq pulled meat is more traditional, but I'm not a fan of bbq sauce, and Jerk is one of my favorite flavor combos.  That sweet mixed with a little heat...yum!  I really hope people will enjoy it.  If it turns out well, maybe I'll post the recipe.  I'm nervous though.  I'm sure I'll like it, and I think my boyfriend will like it, but I'm not so sure about the rest of them.  I feel bad when I make something that people don't like.  I know what it is like to sit at a table and panic because the food is something you aren't used to, and you don't want to offend the cook.  Bleh...so many years of stressing people out because I was coming to dinner...I don't want to be like that anymore! I know I still am to an extent, but I'm determined to eventually become the kind of person who no one would label "a picky eater."


Edited to add:

YUCK! My jerk chicken was HORRIBLE.  Like, epic fail.  I guess I put in too much marinade and cooked the shredded chicken too long...or something.  It turned into something that resembled vomit.  The chicken disintegrated! It was so bad, we ended up ordering pizza.  How embarrassing! At least my dessert turned out good.  Most people seemed to really like it. I know I sure did.

Hibachi and Mushrooms and Flames, Oh My!

I believe I have mentioned before that I teach preschool. Let me begin this post with a funny preschool story. One year, I was teaching 2 year olds, and had a very verbose girl in my class. This girl had just turned two and spoke better than some adults I have known. However, she always called herself, "you." I suppose this makes sense as it was how others would have referred to her. One day this small person said to me (and remember, this was within only a couple months of her turning two) "Last night, you went to the Japanese restaurant, and they cooked a fire!"

Well,  Friday night I went to the Japanese restaurant, and they cooked a fire! My very good friend Keli told me a couple weeks ago that she was going to take me out to dinner for a late birthday celebration.  Originally, the plan was to go the Cheesecake Factory, but the Cheesecake Factory is about an hour away, and we were trying to come up with other ideas.  A few days before the intended dinner, Keli asked if I'd ever been to a Japanese Steakhouse.  I said that I had not, but that I was certainly up for trying one out! 


I believe the hibachi experience is pretty similar wherever you go, but it was all new to me.  Our meal started with clear soup and house salad with ginger dressing. 

I picked out the offending mushrooms, and tried the clear soup, but I wasn't thrilled with it.  It needed...something...anything.  I had several tastes of it because I know sometimes I need to get used to something, but it just wasn't doing anything for me.   The ginger dressing on the salad was yummy, but there was seriously WAY too much of it.  The lettuce was floating.  I'm the kind of girl who makes a huge salad and puts a tablespoon of dressing on the whole thing, so having a massive amount of dressing on a tiny salad was not appealing to me.  Still, it was tasty. 

As we moved on to the Hibachi portion of the experience, I was pretty excited.  I've been to a Mongolian Grill (Oh BD's, how I love thee), so I've seen some cool tricks, but this guy was pretty impressive.  I particularly enjoyed watching him bounce and crack the eggs over his metal spatula. 
The fried rice was yummy, but I wanted to taste everything together, so I didn't eat much before the other portions were on my plate. 

The flaming tower of onion rings was fun! Keli warned me it was coming so I'd be able to get a picture.  :)  The veggies were good, but I was a little troubled by the fact that there were mushrooms all mixed in.  As soon as they got on my plate I popped one mushroom in my mouth in an effort to be brave.  I chewed it up and swallowed it, but I came pretty close to gagging.  There is something I really don't like about the texture.  Maybe someday I'll get over that.  I'm sure I had some mixed in with my other veggies, but they didn't seem to bother me. 

I ordered chicken with my meal, and that was really good.  I especially liked it all mixed together with some of the ginger sauce they gave us drizzled on top.  The whole experience was really enjoyable.  The food was good, and the flames and tricks were fun to watch.  I would say though, that if given the choice, I'd choose BD's Mongolian grill over a Japanese Steakhouse everytime.  There are just so many more choice and you don't have to try to pick around the things you aren't crazy about.  Still, I'm really glad we did this.  It pushed me a little more out of my food comfort zone, and turned out to be really good!

Toes in the Water and Crab in my Belly

Do you love this picture of my oh so attractive foot? It's nice, huh?  My boyfriend found out he was going to get to have his boys for part of Saturday on his "off weekend."  His ex-wife had to work, so we got to play! :)  We hadn't been to the beach in a long time, and the weather was nice, so we packed up and headed out for some fun in the sun and sand.

After a full morning at the beach, I was craving either seafood or Mexican food (something about the beach always makes me want one of those two things).  We decided to have lunch at Pincher's Crab Shack.  I ordered blackened grouper tacos, and the boyfriend ordered crab.  Fish tacos used to sound like the most disgusting thing in the world to me, but now I think they might be one of my absolute favorite dishes.  The ones I ordered came out looking perfect.  They had a nice mango salsa on the side, and everything about them looked amazing.  Unfortunately, looks were deceiving.  The blackening seasoning they used was waaaaaaay too salty.  I was very disappointed.  However, I did manage to be brave enough to try some of my boyfriend's crab! I made him pull it out for me (there was no way I was going to be picking through crab parts for the meat), but I ate it.  I actually kind of liked it.  I can't imagine that I'd ever want to order it for myself and do all the breaking and picking, but I wouldn't mind having some crab meat in something sometime.  His boy's feelings on the matter of picking out the meat were very different than mine.  They had a great time cracking crab legs open and pulling out what they wanted to eat.  They kept begging for more.  In some ways, they are far more adventures eaters than I am!

An Airport, A Burrito, and the Beginning of an Obsession

Here we are. Aren't we fabulous? ;)

In November of 2010 I flew out to Washington (the state) for a visit with one of my bestest friends. While in an airport in some state (Texas maybe?) on a layover, I walked into a little Mexican Grill (I believe it was Qdoba).  I had started trying more things at this point, but I was still heavily altering my food at most restaurants (hold the tomatoes, no onions, etc.)  I decided I would try a burrito, but I planned to ask for it without several things.  I stood there for a few moments, and looked at the menu.  Finally, I told myself, "Just get it as listed!" So I did.  I walked up to the counter and ordered the most loaded up burrito on the menu.  That thing had sour cream, guacamole, salsa, beans, and all sorts of things I normally wouldn't go near.  I watched nervously as the guy wrapped it up for me.  Could I really eat this? It had tomatoes in it.  I had only just started occasionally trying to eat tomatoes, and I still wasn't crazy about them. (Once upon a time I wouldn't even eat something that had come in contact with a raw tomato.) I liked baked beans and chili beans, but would black and pinto beans be scary and gross? Would guacamole be disgusting?  However, I was determined.  I was alone (which is sometimes the best way for me to try something...I don't have to worry about other people's reactions to my reaction) and I was hungry and I was really trying to make a better effort to broaden my eating horizons. 

I took the burrito and headed to the waiting area at my gate.  As I took my first bite I realized something amazing; this thing I was eating was incredible! I didn't just like it, I loved it.  I was a little troubled by the fact that all the cold ingredients were at one end of the burrito and all the hot ones at the other, but I chalked that up to an incompetent burrito wrapper (is there an official name for that position).  It was still delicious.  I think I called my mom after I finished it.  I needed to tell someone about my brave new journey into Mexican (or at least Americanized Mexican) food.  I'm pretty sure I also texted my boyfriend to tell him about it as well.  I was so excited.  So many new foods all wrapped up in one deliciously wonderful meal.

While visiting with my friend that week, I got to experience another burrito at Taco del Mar, and I'm pretty sure I got another one in the airport on the way home.  I was hooked.  I couldn't wait to go home and start eating more than just chicken and cheese quesadillas at Moe's and Bajio's.  I couldn't get enough! At home, I started making myself big taco salads filled with anything I could think of.   Eventually, I started eating the burritos "naked" to save some calories, but my love affair with them has still not died down.  I've even branched out to more authentic Mexican food though I think I will always prefer the Americanized versions (only because it always seems to be loaded with more yummy stuff).


On Wednesday nights, I usually get together with some friends to play games or watch movies or just hang out.  Last night we had a taco night.  Our hosts provided the shells, beef, chicken, salsa, chips, and sour cream.  The rest of us brought other stuff to go on the tacos.  As I piled my taco with my homemade guacamole, beef, veggies, and cheese, I looked over and saw my friend's taco made of only cheese and chicken.  Man, it took my back to my not so distant past.  There was a time when that would have absolutely been me.  I don't miss those days!

Unexpected Motivation

 In 2008 and 2009, my life felt so much better. Don't misunderstand.  I was never a miserable person.  I have always believed myself to be a blessed person.  I've had the love of my friends and family.  I have wonderful memories.  I have grown up knowing the love of my precious Jesus.  Still, there was always that idea in my head that I was the fat, picky, chicken.  Some of those negative feelings were starting to go away. (Though I am still a big chicken!) I felt prettier. I was
getting more compliments and attention. Still, the picky thing was
always there reading it's ugly, embarrassing head. I wanted to change.
In 2009, I started trying more new foods. Just a few things, but I was
improving. In 2010 I made a resolution to try 2 new foods a month. I
started out kind of wimpy. I mostly tried things that I was pretty sure I
would like because they were made with things I already liked or had
eaten in the past. Then the biggest turning point to date happened. A
guy...a decidedly NOT picky-eating guy.

February 2, 2010, I started going to a new Bible Study group at the home of this guy from my church. I knew who he was, but I didn't really know him. My friend and I had been in a different group before, but the other members had moved away, and we were looking for something new.
This is not a blog about my relationship, so I won't go into detail about all of that, but by April this guy was calling me a lot and often inviting me to hang out. After a couple months, he shared with me his concerns about how picky I was. He didn't like the idea of me snubbing food in front of his two small boys show were expected to eat what was put in front of them. He was anything but a picky eater, and was afraid that my picky eating was going to cause problems for us.
*<---The guy in the picture is my boyfriend (though he was just my friend then) eating a hot dog that has been wrapped in bacon, covered in cheese, and shoved inside a Twinkie.  I'm still not sure I'm brave enough for that.  I'm not even sure I want to be.*
I thought about this for awhile. I don't think anyone should change who they are just to make someone else happy. However, if the change was already something you wanted for yourself, then I see no problem with letting that person help to motivate you to get going on it.
I decided that this was important to me. Whether I was with him or someone else someday, I knew my eating was going to be a problem. If I ever had children, I certainly would not want them to end up as picky as me. It was time together serious about changing.
I started trying foods that I was really afraid to try, and as I did, I began to find that I liked them. Suddenly I was adding rice and fish and broccoli (are you happy, Mr. Broccoli? Are you happy?) and Lima beans to my diet. Sometimes I had to try a thing 5 times before I liked it, but I was finding that most things were actually good once I got used to them.
I felt better about myself. It felt good when my bf or my parents said they were proud of me for eating something. Suddenly foods that used to gross me out, I now wanted all the time. On a trip to Washington State, I tried my first burrito. That opened up a whole new world for me. How could I have ever lived without Mexican food?
My whole world shifted. Eating out was so much more fun. Cooking became an adventure. I had a long way to go still, but the new found freedom was exhilarating.

Time For Change

Me on the Cruise in 2006

I think the first turning point came after our second family Christmas cruise in 2006. By this time, I was out of college, and back home with my family. I came home from the cruise and looked back at the trip pictures. I hated looking at the girl I was seeing. She weighed well over 200 lbs (I avoided scales then, so I am not sure how much over.) It was time to change. I knew that the large amounts of fried food and pizza I was eating was not ever going to get me to a healthy weight.  I wanted to be healthy and prettier.  I didn't feel good about myself.

January 2, 2007, I decided to change. I began to keep track of every calorie I consumed. At first, I just tried to eat fewer chicken fingers and pizza slices. At home, I cut out chips and started eating more fruit. I wasn't really changing what I ate, just the amounts. Eventually, though, I figured out that I could consume more food if it were healthier. I began ordering
grilled chicken breasts when I would go out. I found that it really was just as yummy as the the friend tenders I had been eating. I began experimenting with new ways of putting together foods I already liked. Hey, I like chicken and I like lettuce and some veggies, so maybe chicken in a salad would taste good!

It was a small step, but it felt good. I was changing. The weight was coming off. It was getting easier to find foods I liked at restaurants. I began to feel more "normal." In just over a year, I had lost around 80 lbs. Things were starting to look up!

Me, one year after the above pictures were taken.

The Picky College Girl

Me and two of my college friends having lunch after graduation at one of our favorite restaurant.  I can't even begin to tell you how many chicken fingers I ate at this place over the course of my 3 years there.

Being a picky child is one thing. Even at 10, 11, 12 most people will just roll their eyes and get you a pb&j. When you are a picky teenager, it begins to get harder. It is far more embarrassing to be different. Don't get me wrong, my friends were usually very understanding and kind about it, but it was still hard. Being 16 or 17 years old and ordering off the children's menu or taking a McDonald's bag into a Chinese restaurant is kind of humiliating.
The older I got, the worse it was. College was particularly difficult. I had been a heavy girl since my preteen years, but all the waffles I ate in the cafe because there was nothing else I liked only helped pack on the pounds. My friends got so tired of going to the same restaurants all the time. Never once would I agree to go somewhere like the Japanese steak house. How boring for them! I felt bad, but going to those kinds of places was just too scary for me.
One year, over Christmas break, my family went on a Caribbean cruise. All you could eat of the most amazing foods were offered each night, but what did I have? Chicken nuggets off the children's menu.
Every.
Freaking.
Night.

My cousins and I with our waiter.  After the first couple nights, he just left the children's menu at my seat every evening.  He knew I'd want the chicken nuggets.

And each day it was pizza for lunch. How boring! How much I must have missed out on! I comforted myself with the thought that I liked chicken. It was familiar and yummy. I knew how pathetic it was though.

Another Year Older and Another Bite Braver

I turned the big 3-0 yesterday.  My father and brother-in-law were both kind enough to remind me that I have now entered my 4th decade.  Gee, thanks guys.  Honestly though, so far I'm not bothered by it.  I'd rather be thankful for another year than lament getting older. 

For my birthday lunch, I decided I wanted to go to PF Chang's.  We had gone there for my boyfriend's birthday last year, and I'd really enjoyed it.  (Amazing, btw, since until that point, I wouldn't touch Chinese food.) My parents, sister, brother-in-law, nephew, nieces, boyfriend, and boyfriend's sons all came to lunch with me.  We ordered a few different things and then shared "family style."  In addition to my Sesame Chicken and Garlic Noodles (SOOOOOOOOO good!!!!) I tried out a few new things.  My sister wanted Chicken Lettuce Wraps.  I was nervous to try them since I knew there were diced mushrooms in the mix, but I braved it anyway.  They were really good!  I'm not taking mushrooms off my scared list because I still am not sure I could deal with them in other forms, but all mixed up in the meal, they didn't seem to bother me.  I also tried a piece of pepper steak (I'm not a big red meat fan aside from ground beef, but I keep trying to like it) and...gulp...fried calamari! Ok, if I'm being honest, I just barely tried the calamari.  I found the skinniest, most batter covered piece and had one bite of it.  It wasn't bad, but the idea that I was eating squid was creeping me out too much to take another bite.  Perhaps I'll try again some day.  I think I pushed myself enough for one day.  It was a good birthday, and I'm proud of myself for trying some scary new stuff.

~ Picky Chick

Mr. Broccoli

When I was about 10, I had this friend.  I spent a lot of time with her and her family.  My sister and I would stay over at their house, go out to eat with them, etc.  Well, my friend had a dad (we'll call him Mr. Broccoli).  Mr. Broccoli apparently decided that it was his mission in life to cure me of being a picky eater.

Now listen people, I teach preschool.  I spend everyday with the same kids.  Everyday I try to shape and mold those children with my influence in small ways.  I hope that some of it will produce something good in them one day (I am certain that some of it is negative.  I'm far from perfect).  However, the fact is this; every night those children go home to be with their parents.  Every night, 97% (this percentage was totally made up) of what I try to instill in them goes down the drain.  Every morning, they come back, for better or for worse, as the children that their parents are raising them to be.

Mr. Broccoli had little to no chance of success in this matter.  He had me at his home maybe once every few weeks.  My parents had allowed me to get out of eating what I didn't want to eat for about 8 years.  Oh sure, he forced me to eat something off the buffet at a Chinese restaurant once, (just some plain, fried chicken breast pieces...something I was already eating, but which scared me because it looked different) but there was no way that my whole life was going to change over this.  I recall that once he tried to make me eat a piece of broccoli at his house.  I downright refused.  I was crying over it, and he was insistent that I try it.  My parents happened to show up during the escapade, and I finagled my way out of tasting the broccoli.  Looking back, I suppose my parents were spoiling me.  They probably should have made me eat that broccoli or at least taste it.  But let's face facts, at that point there was zero chance I was going to like it.  I was predetermined to find it disgusting.

I remember another time when a friend's parent was seriously annoyed with me.  She had asked if I liked hot dogs and macaroni and cheese.  I'd said that I did.  Well, when she called us in for lunch, I discovered that the hot dog was actually cut up and put IN the mac and cheese.  I was horrified.  There was no way I was putting that in my mouth!  I'm sure she tried to force me to eat it.  I'm equally certain that I did not.  I really was a stubborn kid!  I have no idea why the idea of these two foods touching was so shocking to me, but I certainly remember that it was!

I tell you these stories because 20+ years later, I still remember them.  They were huge deals in my life.  That seems absurd.  Why should a piece of broccoli and some hot dogs in mac & cheese have had such an impact? But that's how it was.  Eating is emotional for me.  It always has been. My eating habits have controlled my life in so many ways.  They were controlling my life as a small child.  They controlled it as a teenager.  They controlled it in college and on into my adulthood.

Small Victories

Successes, even little ones, make me feel like I am going to eventually kick the picky chick in me to the curb. Saturday was my nieces' joint birthday party. My brother in law spent all afternoon smoking ribs and sausages for dinner. We also had burgers, hot dogs, and enough side dishes to feed an army.

Mid afternoon he pulled a few sausages out and cut them up for people to snack on. I am not entirely certain what kind of sausages these were, but I think they were similar to a brat. I have tried a brat once before. They have been one of those things that have always looked totally gross to me. The inside is so...pieced together and chunky looking. Scary stuff! Still I had sucked it up and tried a bite once already, and I hadn't hated it. It was time to try again. I only ate one little bite this time, but once again, I found it to be much better than I was expecting. I am counting calories, and knew that I needed to save up for dinner, so I didn't have more, but it is something I will keep trying until I can actually find it tasty instead of just OK.

At dinner, I decided on a burger. This may seem a safe choice for most people, but you should know that I have only been eating burgers for about 2 years. As a kid, I would pretty much only eat McDonald's burgers, and that was it. Now I love them. I love them piled with bacon, cheeses, peppers, pineapple, tomatoes, onions, etc. Steak 'n Shake has this chipotle burger...holy cow (pun intended)...sooooo good! Anyway, I fixed my burger, and got all my sides, and was all set to pretend the ribs did not exist. My bf and brother-in-law apparently had other ideas. I needed to try those ribs. I have this thing about bone-in meat. It grosses me out. The thought of picking around bones and other inedible body parts to get to my food is utterly disgusting to me. Also, I am not a fan of smoky BBQ sauces. My brother-in-law assured me though that his ribs would not taste too much like BBQ sauce, and my bf agreed to pull off a choice piece of meat for me. So, hesitantly, I gave it a try. Folks, I have to admit, I kind of liked it! Had I not been so full already, I might have had my bf pull off some more pieces for me.

This was not my first ribs experience, I must admit. Last summer a friend made some for my bf's son's birthday party. I tried a few bites of those as well, and I hadn't hated them either, but it takes me some time to work up to actually liking certain foods. Maybe someday I will be able to eat a rib without someone else pulling the meat off for me, but right now that is hard to imagine. Baby steps, friends. Baby steps.

Fear

If you are not a picky eater yourself, please try to understand something. We aren't picky because we are stubborn or trying to make your life difficult. I can't speak for all picky eaters, but I can tell you how it was for me. You know that irrational fear that you have? Think about it for a moment. Contemplate facing that thing head on. Think about letting that spider crawl all over you. Consider climbing up to the top of that mountain and looking down over the edge. Think about squeezing yourself into a tiny space and staying there all day.  That is how it felt for me.  If I looked at a sliced tomato, my mind never registered anything along the lines of "that would be so nice on a sandwich!"  Instead, I looked at it and saw something slimy and disgusting.  It didn't look edible.  Putting it into my mouth would have been almost as repulsive and frightening to me as biting into a fat slug.

Throughout my life, one of the scariest things to face was an invitation to someone's house for dinner. If it was someone who knew me well, it wasn't such a big deal..."Oh, Lauren is coming, we'll just order a pizza or make her a peanut butter sandwich,"  but even then I would feel guilty.  I knew I was depriving people of eating what they really wanted just to please me.  Still, the worst was visiting someone new.  First, there was the fear of offending them.  People have a tendency to feel very personally about the food they make, and I don't blame them for it. I hated the idea of hurting someone's feelings because I wouldn't eat their food.  But even if the person was really understanding about it, it was still awkward.  There were those who tried to encourage me to "just try it," and others who would try to find me something else to eat.  It didn't matter which way it went though.  In either case, it was uncomfortable.  I certainly wasn't looking to be the center of attention.  All I wanted to do was disappear into a hole somewhere.   

That's the thing about being a picky eater.  It's embarrassing.  It was never something I liked about myself (though I would fake-brag about being the pickiest person around).  It wasn't my desire to be picky.  I honestly didn't feel like I could do anything about it.  I wasn't in control of my life.  The selective eater inside me was calling all the shots.

Greek Fest Fail

I hate when I let myself down. I think I am going so well. I honestly believe that I am not that girl who has to fight back tears in a new food situation, but then it happens. Yesterday, I went to a local Greek Fest with my boyfriend's family. We had planned on having lunch there, and I had said I was willing to try it out. When we arrived, his family bypassed the outdoor food booths, and walked into a building that had been set up as a cafe. As I looked at the picture menu full of unfamiliar items, an extremely familiar and unwelcome feeling began to rise up in me. The terror was started to build. I could sense that if I didn't get a grip quickly, the tears would soon arrive. "Stop it!!" I told myself. It was irrational. There was nothing to fear here. It was just food, and there was not the slightest chance of my starving to death. I told my boyfriend that I didn't think there was anything in there that I wanted to eat. My plan was to walk through and look at it all, and then try to find something at the outside booths. Other people, however, are usually too helpful (and I really mean that in a nice way) to allow things to be so simple, and I was too emotional at this point to try to explain well. His family pointed out that there was chicken on the menu, but then remembered that I don't like chicken on the bone.  It is still so embarrassing to have so much attention on my pickiness. It makes me feel like a freak.

Eventually it was decided that my boyfriend and I would head outside to look for something else. I felt horrible because I knew he thought the food in there looked amazing. I finally did find something I was good with. I had Chicken Soulvaki on a pita with sour cream, tomatoes, and onion. My bf got a gyro that he thought sadly lacking in toppings.

We joined his family again to eat together, and I could tell he was jealous of their food. Honestly, one of the things they had ended up looking way better to me in person than it had in the picture. I kind of regretted not trying it (apparently it tasted like baked Skyline Chili). Thankfully my bf's family all had a ton of food and he ended up getting enough of what they had to more than make up for not ordering his own. The only one who really missed out was me.  They did offer, but I'm not big on eating after other people.

I hope that someday I will have put the pickiness behind me. I want to be un-afraid to try new things. I want new food experiences to thrill instead of terrify me. I know I have come a long way. I do try things now. I eat so many more things than I used to. I normally am proud of myself. But when I fail, I feel like I'll never change. I am not going to let those failures stop me though. It was a lost battle, but I will not let food defeat me in the end.

Picking and Choosing

Apparently, I occasionally ate burgers from other places.  I'm not sure when the only eating them from McDonald's thing started.  I do recall that I was pretty adamant about that for most of my childhood and into my early 20s.

In all honesty, I have no clue what led me to eat certain foods and snub others.  There were things that made no sense about it.  I didn't just like bland food.  Heat has always been my friend when it comes to food.  I could pile the black or crushed red pepper on top of my spaghetti sauce like it was going out of style. I can't figure out any method to my madness.  Why did I decide that baked beans and beans in my mom's chili were fine but that black beans or any other beans were not to be tasted?  Maybe I just got used to the stuff that was served the most often in my home.  Neither of my parents were particularly adventurous eaters, so there has always been a lot of monotony in what we ate as a family.  

The Formative Years of a Picky Eater

Everyone knows that kid...the one who only eats peanut butter sandwiches and chicken fingers and fries. Eventually, that kid grew up and started eating normal food. But what about the kid who didn't grow out if it? As a child, I was very selective about what I ate. I had my short list of foods, and I stuck fast too it.

It's been a long time, but if I had to come up with a list:
Peanut Butter (Creamy)
Jelly
Bread (but it better not have any crunchy seeds in it!)
McDonald's hamburgers
French Fries
Pizza (but I was very picky about the brand)
Chicken Tenders or Nuggets
My mom's (and aunt's) spaghetti sauce 
Certain shapes of noodles
Mac & Cheese (only from the Kraft box)
Certain brands of turkey hotdogs
Most standard fruit
Baked Beans (at least the ones that my mom made)
My Mom's Chili
Carrots
Corn
Cucumbers
Lettuce
Most normal breakfast foods (yogurt, pancakes, bagels, cereal, bacon, little smokies, eggs etc)
Cottage Cheese (though I eventually stopped eating this for many years.)
Desserts, though I wasn't a big fan of chocolate or anything with nuts in it.

I'm sure there were a few more things, but not many.

My parents tried in the beginning. There was the usual, "You need to at least try it," but honestly, it rarely worked. Maybe it was because they were both a bit picky themselves or maybe they just didn't think it was worth fighting with my absolute stubbornness. Probably it was both. The result though was that I would turn up my nose at most food without so much as tasting it. I don't blame them for this. I could, I guess, but why? They were (are) wonderful parents, and I wouldn't be who I am now without their guidance, love, prayers, and discipline. I remember other family members and friends being very frustrated with this stubborn little thing who wouldn't eat what was put in front of her.  Maybe my parents figured I would eventually grow out of it. Perhaps by the time they realized that wasn't happening, it was too late. I was what I was. I was going to be that girl forever.

Welcome

Hello world. :) My name is Lauren.  Once upon a time, I was the pickiest eater you probably ever knew.  Currently, I'm a fairly picky eater.  This blog will be the story of my journey in picky eating. I'd like to share with you the struggles of being a picky eater and take you along as I attempt to leave picky eating behind me.

Have I used the words "picky eater" enough?

- The Picky Chick