MARRIED TO A FOODIE

I like to say I was born picky; it helps explain away my eating quirks. And, while it isn’t exactly true, I did start demonstrating a discriminating palate at a very young age. I shunned eggs from the moment I started eating solids. 39 years later and my egg phobia is as strong as ever. Tears would flow if my mom tried to put a bit of butter on my toast. Fish sticks? Forget it! Lobster? A sea insect!? you’ve got to be joking. Custard? What the hell is wrong with you!!!

Many kids go through a phase of picky eating and then outgrow it. No such luck for my poor parents. As I got older, long before I discovered calories and fat grams, I became even more selective. Nice knowing you cheese, tuna fish and shrimp! Taste wasn’t just an issue; texture became problematic as well. So long pudding, yogurt and apple sauce! It’s not you, ribs and chicken wings, it’s me. Go find someone that will appreciate you for what you are – bones and all.

And then, of course, came anorexia – where entire food categories became verboten.

I tried to make light of it all, even coined my nickname: Picky Peiky. But it wasn’t fun being me; always worried when I went for a meal outside of the house; avoiding work functions because I knew I would spend the evening starving and grumpy.

And then…I married a foodie.

I won’t lie. Early on, I wasn’t sure we were going to make it – convinced that our mismatched eating habits would come between us. A few cases in point…There was the first time I went for breakfast with Charles’ parents. I had visions of Chez Cora. We went for Dim Sum! There was our first anniversary dinner when Charles suggested a restaurant to celebrate. I was scandalized because he hadn’t checked the menu to ensure I would eat there; he was shocked to learn that he would even have to. And then there was the time we went out for Chinese food and I asked him what he was eating. He chuckled and said “you don’t want to know.” He was right. I didn’t.

“This isn’t going to work,” I thought. “He doesn’t get me.” God knows what he was thinking but I’m pretty sure it was something along the lines of she’s crazy.

Still, we adapted over time. He now religiously checks menus to ensure his 3 girls will eat. I’ve found 5 things on the menu at any Chinese restaurant that I eat (pssst…steamed white rice is one of the five). I’ve even added things to my repertoire: steak, hamburgers, spring rolls, Pho.

Being married to a foodie has allowed me to try some of the city’s great restaurants, places I would never think of going. And I’ve enjoyed them – admittedly more for the ambiance than the food in some cases but still…That’s not to say there have not been a few fiascos – like the time we went to Joe Beef and the only 2 items I could eat were the 16-ounce filet mignon or roasted pigeon. I went with the pigeon, thinking it would be close to chicken. I didn’t expect the full bird – feet and all – to appear before me. Nor did I expect it to have the texture of very rare beef (I eat my steak well done). Still, I got a good story out of it.

Over the years, I’ve started to treat Charles to food dates for special occasions. This weekend, we went to Gibbys – something we’ve talked about doing for years. I was ready. I’d studied the menu beforehand so there was no anxiety about what I would eat. The food – from the bread to the salad and the steak – was excellent. The waitress was funny and extremely attentive. Calories were forgotten for the night and I even had more than one glass of wine. It was one of our best meals in a long time.

Best of all… there wasn’t a pigeon in sight.

 

What do you think? What restaurant should we go to next time?