I grew up a very picky eater. For the most part, it had to end with –ios if I was gonna consume it. You know … Cheerios, Spaghettios … and that was before honey nut was ever invented. I liked ice cream too. I caused a lotta turmoil in the family. I remember a time that for some reason we were living in my grandparents’ house on my dad’s side. I dunno why. Musta been in ‘tween houses. And I’ve said before, I dunno if a lot of memories I have are even real, but they are there, buried in the depths of my mind.
The biggest memory I have from 6 Bearhill Road is sitting at the dinner table at age 6, refusing to eat whatever crap they put out and crying my eyeballs out but promising my parents I would start eating normally when I turned 7. After all, that seemed FOREVER away, and I wanted to please them. I did not, however, honor my promise. Then I discovered this:
Holy mother of yum. And there’s MEAT on it. Good-tasting meat at that … ooh my parents will be impressed. When we moved to NH, Friday night was frozen pizza night. My best friend, Scotty McEachern, would sleep over. Ya, weird, I know. I was a boy when I was a little girl. My parents would give us the money to buy a $.99 frozen pizza put out by Chef Boyardee from Don’s Market, a half mile from the house, and we would walk up there, happy as could be, to make the purchase. We would take turns each week after cooking it — one would cut it in half, and the other would choose which half they wanted. Pretty fair in my book! Good times.
My mom once took me to the doc cuz she was concerned about my less-than-balanced diet, understandably so. The doc said, “Well, she’s healthy, so don’t worry.”
My love affair with pizza lasted a very long time:
My college roommates had one delivered to my wedding reception, hehe. What a hoot.
I even had it delivered to my honeymoon suite at the Grand Floridian in Disney World … how cool is that?! Check out the li’l crystal salt-n-pepa shakers and the flower. Haha! I was so naïve …
I actually found a low-carb version of the Italian yumminess … crust made outta cauliflower, of all things! I made the pizza in the pic above.
Well, I have matured since then, broadened my horizons shall we say. My mom would be shocked at my cooking skills … I dare say … well nevermind, I don’t wanna sound too cocky. But here is what I missed out on as a child every single Saturday night:
NY strip. OMG. Dad was better than the United States Post Office, cuz he truly would deliver … every Saturday night. Come rain, snow, sleet, or hail, Saturday night was grilled steak night in the Patten household, and I mean EVERY Saturday night. Not even a Nor’Easter would stop him. Spaghettios for me, though, or cereal.
I will never forget our every-two-week trips to the grocery store and then the butcher shop. I miss that. There are no butcher shops around here like Butcher Boy. It’s not quite the same as it was back then. Back then, there was sawdust all over the floor and a particular scent … the scent of fresh meat I guess? I dunno, but it was good. The butchers behind the counter knew my mom by name, and she knew them by name as well. The steaks she bought there were beautiful.
Oh, I missed so much. Now, I eat more red meat than is probably healthy, cuz I eat low carb. I can’t believe all the wonderful meals I missed out on. Mom and I did honor Dad the night before they pulled the plug. It was winter … 1996. I took over Dad’s role and shoveled a spot on the porch in front of the grill. We enjoyed a wonderful steak dinner in Benji-boy’s honor. I miss those simple times … life was good. I miss my dad.
I’ve really broadened my horizons of late. I did finally learn to like meat, but fruits and vegetables … not so much. Green bean casserole was about all I could handle. Then the other day I made jalapeño poppers:
Ya, some’s already been ate. My neighbor said she had 12 leftover jalapeños and asked if I wanted them. I took them with the intent to cook ‘em up into poppers and give ‘em away, some to her, but she said she didn’t want ‘em. After I threw together the poppers and cooked them, I sucked the cream cheese and other gooey insides out of one, careful not to ingest anything green. Then I got up the courage to actually bite into one. So good. I ate a bunch. That made me kinda happy. I’m not as big a freak as I thought I was (well that remains to be seen).
Bottom line is I am trying to make up for all that I missed out on. One of those things is professional wrastlin’. I thought it was goofy. Til I started watching some old footage. That’s for another post. Nitey nite.