I am a foodie. I love reading about food, looking through food magazines, watching the Food Network, cooking, baking…you get the idea. I am addicted to those glossy photos in cookbooks and am a sucker for the new reality tv shows that are popping up ALL the time! I also have become adventurous the older I get.
As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I have some issues with certain foods. Namely, all things that jiggle, wiggle and shake abnormally. Jello and puddings and flan and the weird shnoo in gefilte fish jars…keep them FAR AWAY, I mean it (no offense Mrs. Adler). Custards and calamari (it’s a good thing I keep kosher and this sticky tentacle delicacy is off-limits) are so gross to me.
Just the other day I was offered a piece of apple pie – and it looked AMAZING. I took a bite and loved the topping, the streusel crumbs in my mouth and the warm apple, aah so goo…wait a minute…what the he…..ewwww what is that???? Yes, it was. It was a skin. Apple skins in my pie. Big no no. For me anyway.
After watching these Master Chef, Celebrity Chef, Iron Chef shows I understand that certain judges and real professionals in the field enjoy, encourage and embrace different textures in their mouth at the same time. I disagree when it comes to apple pie. No skins, no nuts, no weird currants or raisins (unless they are mushy). Hard apples in apple pie is bad, and when the skins are left on – no way no how. That’s unbearable! You want texture? The yummy golden buttery crust or the sugary, sometimes crunchy streusel topping – that’s acceptable.
I know it’s a matter of taste. But when I have a mouthful of syrupy sweet cinnamony apple mush – it’s heavenly. With a dollop of whip cream or a scoop of pure vanilla ice cream – wow. Adding some thin pieces of green or red skins in there ruins the whole experience! Again, for me. I’m no apple pie expert. I just like what I like and don’t like skins.
I love Bon Apetit Magazine. Everything always looks amazing and almost achievable. But they make everything sound hoity-toity. Like calling a tart a Galette or even Crustada. I know the French are fancy when it comes to their pastries. Or anything for that matter, like calling a sauce a coulis or roux…I mean I guess they are just using their french. Celebrity chefs use these terms all the time…anyone who wants to be part of the master chef series needs not only how to bake, de-bone a fish, the difference in chopping, mincing and dicing, but also knows how to work with foreign foods like a sea urchin – I mean seriously? Is this a joke, do people or chefs or restaurants ever serve this stuff?
I know that once on the show Fear Factor they made contestants chug an intestine shake and other gross things that are considered delicacies in other parts of the world, and one time on Iron Chef the surprise ingredient was squid and the young competitor made a sherbet using the ink…I say leave the fancy shmancy frenchery and creative techniques to the masters… and well reality tv contestants. And if you are planning a home cooked meal with a well thought out pie for dessert for heaven-sakes keep it simple, but don’t be lazy. Take the time to peel the skin…off the apples…before smothering your slices in your cinnamon-sugar mix. At least if you plan on inviting me for dinner.
I’d do the same for you. Am I wrong? Is it an acquired taste? Not sure, I feel like I’m correct here. But I am not that self-centered. I admit that when things seem off to me, I’m quick to scrunch up my nose and make a face but I’ve been better. When we first got engaged and this was going back 15 years I was invited to a meal where the hostess served up fruit in her green salad. I thought this was one of the most bizarre things ever to do. (this was before I knew it was a trend – waiting to take off, before the days of me plastered to The Food Network).
At 24 years old this is how it went down in my head:
who puts strawberries in a salad with, wait, what are those? leaves from a tree? why are they so dark? oh, that’s what spinach looks like? huh, interesting. ICH, it’s bitter, oh there is a dressing? OK…um what are those things floating in the dressing, never mind I don’t want to know, I’ll just eat what I took and try not to make a face. Here we go, omg, don’t make a face! swallow, Chubby, it’s salad for goodness-sakes…not jello!
It was from that moment on, where she served homemade pesto and a sun-dried tomato cream cheese, and other various “weird” choices that I made a mental note to change and be more open and try new things. That’s how I ended up tasting sushi. I shivered like when you swallow Robitussin MD…it was that bad. I even tried it a few more times because it was the cool thing to do. It’s completely an acquired taste. I have come to even enjoy some vegetarian rolls. Progress, I guess.
The funny thing is, I’m not THAT picky! I know it sounds like it, though. I do love food. It’s because of my love of food (and absolute animosity towards exercise) that I got the nickname Chubby. Ok no one ever actually called me that. I got the nickname Junior (which is a great story – for another day.