Thursday, February 10, 2011

Frustrations from the Kitchen

I don't know how my mother did it.  I really don't.  She must have had the patience and stamina of someone far superior to me.  She put up with all of our complaining, our nit-picking, and our picking-out-ingredients for far too long.

I'm still a picky eater.  There are some foods I cannot eat lest I hack and gag until I hurl (mustard, oranges, and tomatoes come to mind).  But now that I've been married to The Man for well over a year and cooking for him for nearly three, I think I've had it.  It is really hard to cook for someone who is picky!


The Man is super picky.  He has to know all of the ingredients of every dish, and he has an aversion to flavor the likes of which I've never seen.  I made a casserole-type rice and chicken dish last night, and I put in real onion to add some flavor.  He tried it and refused the plate I'd saved for him (since he got home late).

I have to admit his food horizon has greatly expanded in the last few years, but I think his stops where mine starts.  Garlic and onion are wonderful, amazing flavors in many of the dishes I commonly make.  I go through a whole clove of garlic and an onion or two in about a month, so it's not like I'm chucking tons into each dish, just enough to add good flavor.  But when I cook for The Man, I have to ix-nay the arlic-gay, op-stay the onion-lay, and old-hay the avor-flay.  Ugh!

He was even against black pepper when we first met.  I couldn't handle it.  I finally convinced him that black pepper is not spicy, that it is not going to cause him pain or anguish, and that it is a basic and necessary ingredient.

It's so frustrating to have amazing ideas for dinner only to have them shot down because they contain the dreaded "sausage" word or *gasp* that "fish" stuff.  I get that he doesn't like kiwi fruit (slimy, but delicious), and I understand not wanting to eat canned tuna.  But The Man puts peanut butter and maple syrup on his grilled Swiss cheese sandwiches.  Suddenly some pan-seared halibut or a quality sausage seems normal, rational, dare I say delicious?

I married the only man on earth more picky than I am.  Karma anyone?

2 comments:

Jules said...

Would it be wrong to make him something and lie about what was in it? Sigh. I suppose.
Keep at it. Maybe one day he will thank you for broadening his horizons. Until then, you get to eat wonderful leftovers !

Skunk said...

Tell him he eats it, or starves. Or makes his own meal. Sometimes that's all you can do for picky eaters. Consider it practice for motherhood. :)