Tuesday, January 26, 2010

A note on picky eaters

Those who know me are aware that I have a distinct aversion towards picky eaters, though I do forgive those who justify their dislikes with a strong argument. A good friend of mine explained that she did not like olives because when she was a child she chewed on a pitted olive hidden in a dish and chipped a tooth. She was traumatized and now is weary of olives. It is not that she dislikes their inherent saltiness but that there is a disagreeable emotional component to the way she sees olives.
A few nights ago at work, a diner asked me if we could remove the bones in the chicken dish, because she "did not want to touch it." She said our menu was short and limited because she didn't eat pasta, she didn't eat fish; steaks are too fatty and the soup sounded weird. When her date, who seemed to ignore her fastidious behavior, asked what exactly was escarole and then ordered the escarole soup, she ordered one too.
I struggled with this table, not only because I dislike fussy people but because I am uncomfortable seeing people's awkward incompatibilities over the table. Especially while on a date, I think it a serious shame when a couple rules out the flirtatious element of sharing food: "my fish is decadent, would you like a bite?" Though he ordered three courses, and she a soup and a salad sanz dressing or cheese, I proposed an off-beat pacing of their food so that both were eating at the same time.
I wondered why this woman was such a picky eater: did she ever chip a tooth on a bone, or once choked with her lunch that she is now a reluctant eater? Or is this bigger, the product of a damaging self image wherein food is just a necessity, not a pleasure? I then wondered about the man, and how important could food be to him that he seemed not to notice or care when his date proved to be such a picky eater?
Either way, I know I'm getting too wrapped up in someone else's issues, but it got me to thinking about the choices we make when we decide to eat or not eat a certain food. About the restraint and discipline it takes to avoid and decline a food we have decided we a) don't know, b) don't like, c) can't eat, or d) won't eat. I think whoever picks option A is lacking the human gift of curiosity, but I'm open to hearing the arguments behind why people don't like, can't or won't eat certain foods.



Sure, my nephew and DW, the Picky Eater, are allowed up to a certain point to be picky eaters because they are children: their palates are simple and like MFK Fisher said, kids "can taste bland delight in dishes that would sicken [read: bore] older men." But grown adults better have an articulated sophisticated argument to why we eat the way we eat. There is nothing wrong with saying "I'm on a diet" or "I don't like the mushy texture of oysters" or "I will not eat a previously living being," but since we made such a choice we are responsible for defending it and for doing a little research before we take ourselves out to eat. More importantly, we are required not to make our waitress feel responsible for our choices.

That said, I'm thinking of another Communion, one where guests have made a choice of diet and lifestyle they must uphold everyday of their lives. I would love to get some vegans around the table, but I think I would be an utter failure as a vegan cook, since I can't live without butter, cream and cheese. But a vegetarian Communion sounds like a true possibility. Now, where are the self-professed vegetarians?!