Picky Eaters

I have a food dilemma.


Since childhood, I have not been able to eat certain food combinations. Sometimes just their smell is enough to gag me. This is not the normal “I’ll have a taco without cheese, please,” kind of situation. It is a little more complicated than not liking a certain food. You see, to me, eating creamy (hate crunchy) peanut butter on crackers is tasty, but the idea of eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich sours my stomach. Ketchup on French fries, ditto; ketchup on any other food does not happen in my world. Pickles in potato salad are delicious, but otherwise I can not tolerate their vinegary scent for more than a split second.

My list of no-no combinations is endless.

I don’t normally think about my unusual eating habits. Avoiding them comes naturally to me. And because my family is aware of my ‘oddities,’ conversations about my issues ceased long ago. Now when everyone slathers butter on toast, they skip me as they pass the container around the table.



Triston and Ivan loves to hang out with their uncle JB.

 It was not until I had breakfast a few Saturdays ago with my two grandsons (Triston and Ivan) that I was challenged to consider my food choice from a different angle. My daughter is being deployed with the military, and the two boys are staying with me for a year.

Even when you think kids are not listening, they are always tuned in to adult conversations. Earlier that morning they must have heard me talking to my friend, because Ivan, the four year-old, looked up at me and asked, “Can you eat this grandma? It is yummy.” He held his fork in my direction. A supersize serving of pancake covered in peanut butter and maple syrup was inches from me face.

Unable to speak, I shook my head.

“You promised you’d take a bite if we mixed the pancake batter.” Triston joined the conversation.

Ivan waved the food in my face. My reaction was so strong, I wanted to throw up.

Breathe.

How was I going to get through this and still set a good example for them? After all I’d insisted the boys eat at least half the portion of lima beans I’d serve at dinner the night before. Once again, I inhaled a deep breath.

I’ll get through this, no matter how hard.

I closed my mouth over the food and chewed with resolved calm. Of course, it was one of the most disgusting things I had ever eaten. But I did not let my grandsons know my true feelings. In their eyes I was a wonderful grandma who kept her promise. Even more important they believed they were helping me.

Over the past two weeks they have prodded me into trying the strangest combinations. Some I love, others still make me gag. I’m not sure why I have held onto my quirky childhood habits for so long, but I have learned something from all this food drama.

I never accept the status quo. I get it now. To experience life fully you have to embrace new things. Two days ago, I tried sushi for the first time. While I probably will not order it again, I am glad I had the experience.

As I end this article, I catch a whiff of tiramisu. My son loves it, but since I hate coffee I’ve never given the dessert a try. Maybe I’ll take him up on his offer and accept a bite.

Now it’s your time to share…

Until later,

Pamela Varnado