To see me, and talk with me, today would give the impression that I'd been an avid foodie from birth - but that's not exactly the case. As a young boy I was a very finicky, picky eater. If I didn't like the way food looked, smelled, or tasted I would fake a stomach ache and get excused from eating my dinner.
This trick worked for several years until my Dad, a surgeon, actually became concerned with my health and well being (I'm not kidding, I was so skinny you could see my ribs). One day he decided to find out what was wrong and why I always had stomach aches. We took a field trip to the hospital where I was required to drink a "shake" that tasted like chalk and have a full gastro-intestinal scan. The scan came back negative, and the GI Doc basically said "your Son just doesn't like to eat". This made no sense to my Dad, which was fine since I was a conundrum to most people.
Now I don't want to give the impression that I didn't eat at all, just not that much, and quite often skipping 2 or 3 dinners. I did, however, like much of my Mom's recipes but I would augment them at the table to change the food to my liking. My sister still remembers my habit of dabbing cream cheese on my cut pieces of Stuffed Peppers, and not just applying the said cream cheese to my pumpernickel bread (always served with Stuffed Peppers). This was even baffling to my family as they all used butter on the bread.
I had a very acute sense of smell and could detect the evening's meal from up the neighborhood, and usually would make up my mind on whether I'd be eating that night - - or feeling not so well, and opting for some fresh fruit or other substitute.
Yeah, let's discuss Fruit. I loved it, and my Mom always kept the house stocked with whatever was in season to try and steer us towards healthy snacking. My Brother and Sister seemed always more taken with junk food and sweets. Again, I was a skinny kid, so my Mom would actually buy me candy treats to be hidden away from my Brother and Sister. She did this for two reasons 1) I would actually ration myself so the box of chocolates would last two weeks and 2) I was skinny.
I liked oddball things like dried fruits; apricots, dates, prunes, and figs - still do love my dried fruits! My favorite candy was licorice, and if I couldn't sleep at night I would wake my Mom up and she would walk me down to the kitchen for a drink of - - orange juice. Yep, juice - not milk.
Aside from my differing tastes, I did have the curiosity and would always bother my Mom about not what she was cooking, but how she was cooking it. By the time I was 10 I knew how to make pork roast, Swiss steak, Latkes (potato pancakes), chopped liver, creamed beats, leg of lamb, Ham -n- noodle casserole, green bean casserole, and lasagna. Knowing was enough at the time, I wasn't ready for the apron yet.
Seventh Grade - boys were mixed into Home Economics, which is a misnomer - it was more like teaching remedial home skills of sewing and cooking and had nothing to do with balancing the home budget . . . but I digress. Yeah, the sewing was OK - I made a pillow that was a soccer ball, but the cooking was very cool. We made muffins, brownies, and the big pretzel. If you are a New Yorker, you understand the importance of the big hot pretzel.
Producing these foodstuffs wasn't enjoyment in my eating them, it was more the excitement and praise I would receive from my siblings and parents when I would produce these fresh bakery products at home. I was always seeking praise and approval, and food was my vehicle. It seemed easy enough to me, but to my Sister and Brother it was an amazing and delicious feat of great effort and complexity.
My pinnacle of cooking skill was the production of a Tahitian Chicken dinner replete with wild rice pilaf and individual pineapple boats for my family. My Mom was so awesome about letting me do this that we ate dinner in the Dinning Room and used the good china!
Ahhh, but my wanderlust with food took a sidebar to turning 15 and focusing on girls, driving, and general mischief. Not a bad start for the first third of my life, the next chapter will come in my next blog.
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