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Re-Post: Picky Eater

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Reposting as this is such a part of who I am.

You can find the original post and comments here:

https://imnotstalkingyou.com/2012/06/29/picky-eater/

I was out to eat with some ex-coworkers recently at a nice restaurant someone had spontaneously suggested. I had no chance to research the menu online ahead of time, as I normally would. It turned out it was a seafood place. The typical conversation ensued as I looked at the menu.

CO-WORKER: You should try the seafood blah-blah. It is really good.
ME: I don’t eat seafood.
CO-WORKER: Aren’t you a vegetarian?
ME: No, I don’t eat vegetables either.
CO-WORKER: Then what do you eat?…You’re a picky eater.

I should have ended this exchange with “Pop Tarts”. But I didn’t. I admit, it is a little paraphrased. But I know how the conversation goes. I have had it a ton of times over the course of my life. And “You’re a picky eater” is always said as an accusation. I wonder if it is the same way people react when they find out someone is gay.

Mmmmm…

I EAT:
well done steak
pizza (just cheese or with green pepper or onion or ham)
cherry poptarts (strawberry* and brown sugar are
acceptable, but not preferred)
corn
potatoes
carrots (cooked)
yogurt
mac & cheese
bacon
pork
chicken
turkey
chocolate
ice cream
cole slaw
lettuce (but it hurts my stomach)
hot dogs
well done hamburgers
white rice
white or wheat bread
banana
apple
pre-peeled oranges
strawberries
pre-cut melon
pop
lemon
lime
select kinds of cheese (NOT KRAFT)
honey mustard
honey
eggs (but not a big fan)
pancakes
waffles
oatmeal
raisins
grapes
nutella
celery (cooked)
ketchup
BBQ sauce

I DO NOT EAT:
pineapple
coconut
seafood
mushrooms
cottage cheese
American cheese (unless it is from McDonald’s)
salads
chives
mayonaise (unless in Deviled Eggs)
potato salad
macaroni salad
butter
coffee
all fruit and vegetables not listed in the “I EAT” column
sausage
brown rice
olives
tea
oreos
walnuts
beans (except jelly beans)
mustard
ranch
red onion
foreign food of any kind, except tacos and quesidillas

* delicious strawberry flavored death!

Now, I realize my “I EAT” column looks like it belongs to a toddler. But in truth, my toddler eats a more well-balanced diet than I do. But I have stayed alive all these years on this fine American processed food. And I grew another being while eating this food.

You have to realize, being a picky eater isn’t a choice. I was born this way. It is a curse. It is a burden I must bear. Some of the foods I don’t eat I have tried and hate, like pineapple and coconut. Some smell so bad, I would never want to put them in my mouth, like seafood and coffee. Some I have never even tried and have no desire to, such as tea.

Actual conversation outside Teavana at the Franklin Park Mall:
SALESMAN: Would you like to try a sample of blah-blah tea today?
ME: I don’t drink tea.
SALESMAN: Oh, then you should try blah-blah. It has a very un-tea-like taste.
ME (thinking): Um, if I don’t drink tea, then obviously I don’t know what it tastes like then, do I?

Think of all the social situations that food plays a part in. I always had packed lunch at school because I wouldn’t eat the school lunch. The entire four years I commuted to college, I never ate in the dining hall. (I used to get nachos from the snack bar occasionally, that was it.) At work, I rarely bought anything from the cafeteria. Potlucks are their own minefield. It is amazing how many dishes have hidden sausage or mayo or cream of mushroom soup.

Chicken nuggets, anyone? Yummers!

Recently, at a family event, I had the following exchange with an Aunt who is the most prim and proper person. She would believe she has excellent manners.

AUNT: (looking at my plate) Is that ALL you are going to eat?
ME: Yes.
AUNT: Are you a picky eater?
ME: Yes.
AUNT: You don’t want any this or that?
ME: I’m good. I found some things. Thanks.

Isn’t it bad manners to make a guest feel bad about what is on their plate?

Why no green pepper?  I can't ask.  Heart racing, breath quickening. Photo: mlive.com

Why no green pepper? I can’t ask. Heart racing, breath quickening.
Photo: mlive.com

Cici’s Pizza is a nightmare for a picky eater with anxiety issues. Cici’s is a pizza buffet. They put out like 20 kinds of pizza at a time. But, of course, nothing for a picky eater. You can ask for any kind of pizza and they will make it for you and add it to the buffet. Except you have to be able to get past your anxiety and open your mouth and ask for it and not fear the rejection you expect to come.

As a life-long picky eater, I worry the rest of the world wants to reform me. (I know, I worry too much.) That they want me to broaden my horizons. I feel like the world thinks if I am forced to eat something, I will like it and eat it forever and ever. It is another way I feel that I am different. That I am wired wrong. But I should stop thinking that way. Because everyone else has their issues.

Some people overeat. Some people undereat. Some people smoke. Or drink. Or do street drugs. Or prescription drugs. Or run marathons. I don’t judge those people. (Well, I do judge the ones who run marathons. I judge them to be crazy.) Being a picky eater is my thing. Hey, I know. Let’s start calling it “selective eating”. That sounds more politically correct.

Yes, I am not wired THAT much different than everyone else. I am just a selective eater. And addicted to caffeine. And I mis-match my socks. And I have issues with tissues.

If I was a character on a sitcom, I could write great jokes about myself. *sigh*

My first book, The Wind Could Blow a Bug is NOW AVAILABLE!

PURCHASE as a Paperback or eBook on Amazon.com TODAY.

Blatant Product Endorsement: BRACH’S BRIDGE MIX

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While in college, I worked as a retail sales associate at one of the two gas stations in my hometown.

Sometimes it was stressful working with the general public. Other times it was boring when the stream of customers hit a lull. It was cleaning, stocking, food handling, cash register, and balancing the end of shift paperwork. It was a lot of work for little pay. It was also probably the funnest job I have ever had.

Since I can't find a picture of the gas station I worked at, here is a picture of me headed off to work, in my uniform shirt. My mom took this picture without my consent, so yes that is the face of someone saying the f-word to their mother:)

Since I can’t find a picture of the gas station I worked at, here is a picture of me headed off to work, in my uniform shirt. My mom took this picture without my consent, so yes that is the face of someone saying the f-word to their mother:)

One reason was I had a lot of freedom to spend my time however I wanted. That is how I discovered my love of finding expired food products (more about that in a future post). I sometimes mixed up the cleaning products to make a streaming mystery floor mopping solution (hey, my trainer showed me that!). I got to make sale signs on the computer using clip art. I got to hang seasonal decorations from atop a very tall, rickety, non-OSHA approved ladder.

It was also fun when I would close the store, then stay up all night with my friends, then drive by the store 5 hours later to wave high to the manager, who opened. He would shake his head in disapproval and say things like “You haven’t even been to bed yet, have you?” (Note: The manager was only like 3 years older than me, and in college as well.) Ya, those are the amazing things a college student can do with the magic of youth.

One day a week the grocery stock would arrive. I usually worked the closing shift, so my job was to price (yes, we still did that back in the ye olde days of my college years) and put out as much of the stock as I could before close. It was kind of exciting because sometimes we would get in new products.

Who would be the first to try the new kind of chips or candy?

ME!

I learned that moon pies are gross–a lesson I have not forgotten to this day.

I learned that Charleston Chew is only good if it is fresh and chewy. I also learned this is almost impossible because it doesn’t stay fresh for long, even while still sealed in the package.

I also learned about the wonder that is BRACH’S BRIDGE MIX!

Brach's Bridge Mix Photo: ferrarausa.com

Brach’s Bridge Mix
Photo: ferrarausa.com

I was restocking the Bridge Mix one day and took the time to actually read the package. I had just assumed it was reserved for little old ladies playing the card game Bridge. I had always gone for brand name, flashy packaged chocolate treats, like Hershey’s or Nestle or Reese’s.

But Brach’s Bridge Mix contained a variety of yummy things. Cremes, caramels, peanuts, cashews, raisins, cherry jellies.

ALL DRENCHED IN CHOCOLATE!

How did the little old ladies keep this a secret from the rest of the world for so long?

People should be giving this out for Trick or Treat on Halloween!

I have been hooked on Bridge Mix ever since that day. If you like chocolate and you haven’t tried it yet, you should. It is a chocolate lover’s dream come true. It is like a box of chocolates, but without having to guess which fillings you will like and the cumbersome box.

Surprise! I actually like all the fillings in Bridge Mix. [For more on what I will and won’t eat, click here.] I am not crazy about cashews, but I will eat them. I think the white creams are supposed to be coconut (and I don’t like coconut), but it isn’t strong enough to bother me.

I will note that fresh bags are much better than older ones. If you bite into a cream and it breaks, rather than gives, you should possibly lodge a complaint for your money back with the company.

Picky Eater

Posted on

I was out to eat with some ex-coworkers recently at a nice restaurant someone had spontaneously suggested. I had no chance to research the menu online ahead of time, as I normally would. It turned out it was a seafood place. The typical conversation ensued as I looked at the menu.

CO-WORKER: You should try the seafood blah-blah. It is really good.
ME: I don’t eat seafood.
CO-WORKER: Aren’t you a vegetarian?
ME: No, I don’t eat vegetables either.
CO-WORKER: Then what do you eat?…You’re a picky eater.

I should have ended this exchange with “Pop Tarts”. But I didn’t. I admit, it is a little paraphrased. But I know how the conversation goes. I have had it a ton of times over the course of my life. And “You’re a picky eater” is always said as an accusation. I wonder if it is the same way people react when they find out someone is gay.

Mmmmm…

I EAT:
well done steak
pizza (just cheese or with green pepper or onion or ham)
cherry poptarts (strawberry* and brown sugar are
acceptable, but not preferred)
corn
potatoes
carrots (cooked)
yogurt
mac & cheese
bacon
pork
chicken
turkey
chocolate
ice cream
cole slaw
lettuce (but it hurts my stomach)
hot dogs
well done hamburgers
white rice
white or wheat bread
banana
apple
pre-peeled oranges
strawberries
pre-cut melon
pop
lemon
lime
select kinds of cheese (NOT KRAFT)
honey mustard
honey
eggs (but not a big fan)
pancakes
waffles
oatmeal
raisins
grapes
nutella
celery (cooked)
ketchup
BBQ sauce

I DO NOT EAT:
pineapple
coconut
seafood
mushrooms
cottage cheese
American cheese (unless it is from McDonald’s)
salads
chives
mayonaise (unless in Deviled Eggs)
potato salad
macaroni salad
butter
coffee
all fruit and vegetables not listed in the “I EAT” column
sausage
brown rice
olives
tea
oreos
walnuts
beans (except jelly beans)
mustard
ranch
red onion
foreign food of any kind, except tacos and quesidillas

* delicious strawberry flavored death!

Now, I realize my “I EAT” column looks like it belongs to a toddler. But in truth, my toddler eats a more well-balanced diet than I do. But I have stayed alive all these years on this fine American processed food. And I grew another being while eating this food.

You have to realize, being a picky eater isn’t a choice. I was born this way. It is a curse. It is a burden I must bear. Some of the foods I don’t eat I have tried and hate, like pineapple and coconut. Some smell so bad, I would never want to put them in my mouth, like seafood and coffee. Some I have never even tried and have no desire to, such as tea.

Actual conversation outside Teavana at the Franklin Park Mall:
SALESMAN: Would you like to try a sample of blah-blah tea today?
ME: I don’t drink tea.
SALESMAN: Oh, then you should try blah-blah. It has a very un-tea-like taste.
ME (thinking): Um, if I don’t drink tea, then obviously I don’t know what it tastes like then, do I?

Think of all the social situations that food plays a part in. I always had packed lunch at school because I wouldn’t eat the school lunch. The entire four years I commuted to college, I never ate in the dining hall. (I used to get nachos from the snack bar occasionally, that was it.) At work, I rarely bought anything from the cafeteria. Potlucks are their own minefield. It is amazing how many dishes have hidden sausage or mayo or cream of mushroom soup.

Chicken nuggets, anyone? Yummers!

Recently, at a family event, I had the following exchange with an Aunt who is the most prim and proper person. She would believe she has excellent manners.

AUNT: (looking at my plate) Is that ALL you are going to eat?
ME: Yes.
AUNT: Are you a picky eater?
ME: Yes.
AUNT: You don’t want any this or that?
ME: I’m good. I found some things. Thanks.

Isn’t it bad manners to make a guest feel bad about what is on their plate?

Why no green pepper?  I can't ask.  Heart racing, breath quickening. Photo: mlive.com

Why no green pepper? I can’t ask. Heart racing, breath quickening.
Photo: mlive.com

Cici’s Pizza is a nightmare for a picky eater with anxiety issues. Cici’s is a pizza buffet. They put out like 20 kinds of pizza at a time. But, of course, nothing for a picky eater. You can ask for any kind of pizza and they will make it for you and add it to the buffet. Except you have to be able to get past your anxiety and open your mouth and ask for it and not fear the rejection you expect to come.

As a life-long picky eater, I worry the rest of the world wants to reform me. (I know, I worry too much.) That they want me to broaden my horizons. I feel like the world thinks if I am forced to eat something, I will like it and eat it forever and ever. It is another way I feel that I am different. That I am wired wrong. But I should stop thinking that way. Because everyone else has their issues.

Some people overeat. Some people undereat. Some people smoke. Or drink. Or do street drugs. Or prescription drugs. Or run marathons. I don’t judge those people. (Well, I do judge the ones who run marathons. I judge them to be crazy.) Being a picky eater is my thing. Hey, I know. Let’s start calling it “selective eating”. That sounds more politically correct.

Yes, I am not wired THAT much different than everyone else. I am just a selective eater. And addicted to caffeine. And I mis-match my socks. And I have issues with tissues.

If I was a character on a sitcom, I could write great jokes about myself. *sigh*

I’m not stalking you. is NOW ON FACEBOOK! “Like” that I’m not stalking you and get an update when there is a new post to read. (It is sort of like YOU are stalking ME.)

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