Food fascinates me. I don't cook, I barely grocery shop (my cart always tends to reflect the unsophisticated palate of a 70 year recluse-with Attention Deficit Disorder), and these eyes have never studied a recipe that didn't involve a microwave in some incremental way. However, I love to talk about food. I suppose the most fascinating thing about food, to me, is how people feel towards - and the manner in which they treat it. When I am at the beginning stages of any friendship, I pay close attention to their eating habits. They can speak volumes about a person.
Recently, a friend of mine (we'll call her A) met me at Whole Foods for lunch and a little conversational catch-up. We perused the offbeat aisles and diverse cuisine in non-committal loops. This occurs upon EVERY visit to Whole Foods that I make. Generally speaking, decisions are tough for me ANYWAY. The smaller (and more insignificant), they tend to be - the more painstaking the decision-making process becomes. Such crucial choices lay before me.....shall I risk further indecisive panic and brave the salad bar? Puss-out and go for the safe pizza/sandwich counter? Befuddle my senses with reading the prepared food labels? Decadently graze the hot entree selection? The problem is that every option appears desirable when you're stomach is empty and your eyes are wide.
As we meandered (to the chagrin of the patient and earnest produce workers), A talked about her recent efforts to eat more healthfully. She has been struggling to lose weight for almost two years now, to no avail. Unfortunately, I have found, that with some female friendships- many truths are better left under that emotional rock in the corner. Best not to lift it and get your hands all grimey and slimey. If this were not the case, I would have pointed out to A that she doesn't actually overeat; overeating is not the issue here. She eats a reasonable amount of food- hell, she probably eats less than I do! It is my opinion, that her weight issues lie in the TYPE of foods she deems appropriate to eat- which is almost nothing. A is extremely finicky. She is what I snarkily refer to as the "Boxed potato breed". She is the type of person that doesn't feel completely at ease with her food unless it is mass produced, deep fried, accompanied with ketchup, served in cellophane, or in nugget form. She essentially has the same culinary inclinations as the baby boomer generation. It must be sanitized and loaded with saturated fat for her to take two glances at it. And forget about sea dwelling proteins entirely- this girl won't come anywhere NEAR fish. She hates anything unfamiliar or even slightly exotic. However, with some friends, punches must be pulled. So I ignore her dietary narrow-mindedness; opting to listen, and gently encourage instead. I nod sympathetically as she rails against vegetable stew with a cruel prejudice that makes me want to grab the nearest asparagus and whisper words of reassurance. I keep my opinions safely tucked behind my eyes while she furrows her brow at a container of stuffed grape leaves, which I happen to love.
Because, unlike A, I will try anything once. The more unrecognizable the better. The more ingredients the merrier. Tabouli is colorful, fresh, and absolutely fantastic. Majadarra rice is starchy divinity. And I've never actually met a fruit or vegetable that I didn't like, or learn to love (with certain ones- it's all in the preparation). I delight in foods of color, character, and unique flavor combination- ones that taste of their country, and culture. I call it the " Anthony Bourdain school of thought". Don't get me wrong, I also have a petulant four year old living deep within my soul that snacks on graham crackers, and considers fluffer-nutter sandwiches to be mouthwatering (almost beyond comparison). Basically, I'm all over the place. It may seem snotty, but I'm always slightly disappointed when someone I respect lacks an adventurous spirit with their edibles. I mean, as my mother used to say "it's not gonna kill ya, and you never have to eat it again if you don't like it." Simple words that continue to evade many, seemingly mature individuals.
Anyway, at some point I began eying the sushi section. I'm madly in love with sushi. Gun to my head- if I could only eat one food for the rest of my life- it would be sushi. With its delicate loveliness, orderly presentation, and wholesome nutritive properties.....it had me at konnichiwa! While scanning the rows of pretty pink sashimi, A walked up beside me and shrieked in horror "IS THAT RAW MEAT!?"
Now, there are too many things wrong with the substance of this statement to even dissect it. Because, in that moment it happened to be the volume at which she screeched that I found appalling. Everyone standing within a three foot radius became well informed of her opinion. I was mortified. I glanced at the sushi chefs apologetically. They continued to pleat their seaweed wraps in quiet dignity. I instantly began questioning my relationship with this particular friend. Her IQ just plummeted right before my eyes. That may seem like a cold and elitist assessment, but hey- just being honest here!
I need people in my life who can dare to dabble with their taste buds. I need people who can sit across from me at a Korean restaurant, gleefully spooning mysterious piles of goodness onto their plate without the faintest idea what lay before them. This attitude transcends the dinner plate. It's indicative of one's viewpoint in life. Rolling with the punches- and coming back for seconds- is what I want my life to be about. With an open mind and an open mouth (insert obvious sex joke here), I want to savor the sights and sounds with an equally daring companion by my side. Sure, it's risky- sure, it might taste like rotten dust bunnies, and you may regret that heaping bite you took- but so what!? It's my goading immaturity that compels me to leap without ALWAYS looking. But I am what I am- you can take a bite, or you can shriek in the prepared foods section of the grocery store. A word to the whiny, fussy, persnickety set-if the idea of eating an unknown kabob on the streets of Munich at 4am doesn't appeal to you- don't call us- we'll call you ;)
No comments:
Post a Comment