Growing up, I was a picky eater.
A very picky eater.
A stubborn I’ll-throw-up-in-your-face-if-you-feed-me-something-I-don’t-like spoiled rotten picky eater.
Some foods I loathed are commonly detested amongst finicky kids : eggs, mushrooms, seafood, onions. But I also didn’t like strawberries. And vanilla ice cream. And chips. And french fries. And spaghetti sauce. And McDonalds. And chicken pot pie. And dill pickles. And pepperoni.
But I loooved my mom’s marinated beets!
We’d have them beets at least once a week with specific kid-friendly meals : chinese pie, salmon pie and meat pie. Back then, I’d always put rivers of Heinz ketchup on my piece of chinese/salmon/meat pie and mash it carefully with my fork until it became an unrecognizable reddish blob. I’d also leave a clean spot on my plate for my beets and made sure the beets never touched the blob.
I’m a big girl now. I eat eggs and onions and strawberries and vanilla ice cream and chips and french fries and spaghetti and chicken pot pie and pickles. But I still mind if my beets touches my food!
Yeah, I’m a big girl now. I don’t have to answer to anyone or any rules and beets don’t even make their way onto my plate anymore : they go directly from jar to mouth!
You know, I’m a big girl and can take care of myself. Whenever I get depressed because the little king is growing up too fast or because the prince of persia said I have frizzy hair, I get to sit on the couch, watch Roseanne reruns and shamelessly enjoy a whole jar of my mom’s beets!
By the way, I now looove fresh beets! I made beet bites with pistachios and some local goat cheese for the Food Matters Project.