I Hated to Eat
Jul 06, 2013 | From the kitchen of Rose
I have a theory that kids who hate to eat end up becoming major gourmets. In any event this was the case for me. When I was a child, eating was work. There were few things I enjoyed eating. Of course butter and ice cream were exceptions. When I was 16, and went on the experiment in international living to Italy, I lost 10 pounds. It wasn't until I was 17, and took an obligatory food course in college, that I discovered how wonderful food could taste.
When going through my vast collection of things for our move I discovered this cartoon that I had saved because it so perfectly expressed my former distaste and dispair.
I was very fortunate not to have a mother or grandmother who made me sit before the food until I had finished it (it would have been a long wait). I still remember how awful it felt to have to eat something I detested. My grandmother actually offered me money to have a few sips of the eggnog (yuk!) she had made for my breakfast to stave off starvation. (When she wasn't looking I would pour it down the side of the building.) She would say things like "look at your wrists--I can see the bones sticking out," to which I would say: "look at my behind instead." (I was always a bit of a smart ass.)
Nowadays, I love food so much I can't bear to throw out something delicious so into the freezer it goes. Here are two things I unearthed while moving the contents of the freezer to their new location:
Spicy chapati from a marvelous tour of the Indian neighborhood in Queens last April, given by Madhur Jaffrey. I fried a peewee egg crisp with runny yolk and inserted it in the pocket of the bread. Yum!
A mini burger bun I made last year. It was still great. All it needed was some prime aged ground meat and a slice of Vidalia. (The ketchup had already moved to NJ.)