I am gobsmacked... Three years ago I lost the password for my google account (as one does) and although I did try to sort it out, honestly I did, time went by and life changed. I got a new computer, two new iPads, was mugged so lost my phone, lost the next one after that, upgrsaded twice, opened a new office and generally changed my IT profile until it was unrecognisable.
Tonight for some reason I decided to sort it out properly. Of course the first 12 questions they ask online I haven't a clue about. When did you open the account, what "day" did you last use it (seriously) and so on and so on.... All this information from a woman who can't remember what she had for dinner two hours earlier!!!
Anyway a little box pops up asking for my cell no which I fill in and the next thing ....they phoned me from America. I kid you not. A lovely man called Don who only made me feel like a geriatric idiot twice, talked me through it .....and ..... I'm back people 😀
It might be short lived as I could have been talking to Hacker Central and tomorrow I might have no technology, but as I haven't been on here for three years now, it wouldn't make any difference. Here's to happy blogging, long may it last 👍🏻
Sleep Out - Eat Out - Around and About
Interesting, Exciting, Delighting or Enticing - thats what good food is all about !!
Saturday, September 26, 2015
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
DONT TRY THIS UNLESS AN ADULT IS PRESENT ...
I’m going on a Food Safari !
Not a real one with BBC Foods or anything fancy like that but one I have
decided to undertake for myself. My
husband finally has some “semi-family” visiting from Germany and he wants to
take them around the country. With a
sort of ho-hum, done that a few times attitude I thought I might give it an
angle and came up a Food Safari – I mean how hard can it be .. After all Floyd
did it?
In true Zimbabwean tradition, I have made Padkos … showing the German visitors how we do a road trip – delicious roast fillet rolls with Dijonnainse Mustard, fresh naartjies, trail-mix and ice cold bottles of water – which we ate on the side of the road in a rather smelly lay-by as my husband’s arse had gone to sleep from driving (his words not mine). The fumes of the trucks and busses didn’t really affect the flavour too much
Another brief gastronome moment was dashed when we pulled
into a delightful country retreat to enjoy a home baked pie that we had
experienced on another occasion, only to find the country retreat was no more
with not a pie to be seen, homemade or otherwise and lot of people giving us
the evil eye as we swung in and out – dammit, but I mustn’t be despondent,
there are still 9 more days to go.
We have arrived at Caribbean Bay and now ready for dinner –
my husband and guests have discovered Savannah and started enjoying the
trip. I on the other hand am being a
little more discerning with a Gin and Tonic.. (Floyd did this – talked about
food and drink together, very clever)
Overall Crit on the food – the Butternut soup was a little
thin (note to self to email the Chef Tammy Crawford’s Butternut Soup recipe) The
Kariba bream was outstanding and the Crème Caramel was delicious – I really am
quite good at this
DAY 2
Breakfast was rather a greasy affair – lots of eggs, bacon,
potatoes and baked beans. I love baked
beans, I know this isn’t very Floyd like but I like them anyway. Mental pat on the back for remembering the
“goodie food pack” with woollies biscuits, chips, gummy sweets etc, especially
of the foods going to be like this all the way … My husband played games with the Baboons by
throwing the remains of my gourmet rolls out the window on the way to the Ferry
– not quite what I had in mind when I made them
Arrived on the Ferry – it’s great, sauntered over towards
the Galley and found Tea Coffee and lovely chocolate biscuits on the go. Will try just a few. Cars are loaded and we are off and bloody
hell, it’s time for lunch. I swear I can
still taste the chocolate biscuits – never mind, I am here to try
everything. Lovely cold meats and
salad (note to self to send the Captain Mrs Nels Three Bean Salad recipe as she
doesn’t use so much vinegar) Just
finished the last mouthful of fruit salad and its tea time with those damn
biscuits again. My family have paid
little attention to anything other than Savannahs
Chatted to the Captain for most of the evening over a bottle
of wine I had to order and drink by myself.
Can’t quite remember all the dinner details but remember telling the
waiter I didn’t eat Ice Cream which is true – sorry cant crit something if I
really don’t like it – no point. Husband
and Guests having full on German party on board by themselves!DAY THREE
Another greasy breakfast – but necessary after all that wine so well received. Eggs, Bacon, Baked Beans (thanks again) and toast. Husband complained and guests ate a piece of toast. I do wonder if I seem to be eating a lot but then remember that I am on a food safari so feel better
We are off the Ferry and heading for Botswana but Husband
feels the need to stop in Vic Falls for lunch – not sure why as we have just
had breakfast but will humour him as even toasted sandwiches deserve to be
critiqued. These took over an hour to
make .. so instead they drank Savannahs and I ended up driving to
Botswana.
We have arrived at Mowana – stunning, fab, lovely
place. We had to go to dinner early as
my husband says one bloody tomato sandwich is not a lunch and needs to eat Now
! Flipping Hell – the damn buffet stretches
from one end of the restaurant to the other.
The waiter tries to tell us what’s on the menu but my husband fobs him
off and makes for the food. I decide
that Floyd would start at one end and try a little of everything. Getting strange looks from the lady on table
3 as I go back for the sixth time.
En-familie hasn’t noticed as they are all drinking bloody
Savannahs. I have ordered yet another
bottle of wine .. Just found out I have
eaten Crocodile, Eland and Goat – not my normal diet and feel a little strange
but that could be the wine
DAY FOUR
I don’t believe it – breakfast is another room long buffet
meal. Visitors eat more toast… (Note to
self, must eat Toast tomorrow as you will have sampled the buffet today) Exceptionally tasty, not greasy at all and
the chef knew how to cook two fried eggs with the yolk only – I hate the white
of an egg! Guests and Husband decide
lunch is just going to be Savannahs and I grudgingly relent but end up drinking
Hunters just because I am not becoming addicted to Savannahs like them
Dinner again back at the Buffet – don’t they ever just serve
a flipping peanut butter sandwich ???
Whole new menu so once again have to try everything . Husband points out that I don’t eat Ice Cream
and I snottily reply that I needed something to try the chocolate sauce
with. What does he know, all they do is
eat toast and drink Savannah
DAY FIVES**t I honestly didn’t think it would be this hard (note to self, eat toast tomorrow as well, but try and not eat everything else with it) Now feeling slightly full and glad that car is packed and we are on the way to Falls – couldn’t keep pecking at the Buffet again ! Thank Goodness I am wearing my Magic Jeans from Woolies – the ones that make you lose 10kgs the minute you put them on !
Visit to the falls where I am now too full to walk so end up
sitting in the Rainforest Restaurant while the Savannah addicts make their way
round the falls. Sneak in a piece of
caramel and coffee cake as they are going to be ages and no sooner wiped away
the crumbs and they bloody well came back – what one earth is wrong with these
people. They order lunch and I can’t say
no otherwise the cake episode will come out so end up eating a giant wrap
filled with warthog, hummus, avo and salad.
It was delicious but I am now too full to enjoy it and trousers starting
to pinch.
We head straight off on a River Cruise and walk in to trays
of snacks on the tables – No way can I look at them, so sit upright as trousers
are now getting tight, with my back to the table. Don’t dare turn round which is a good thing
as family are now cracking the Savannahs and disgracing themselves once again!
I don’t believe it, we are heading off to the Boma for a
full on 26 course menu and I have to do the job I have given myself justice –
barff in the toilet might work but just can’t bear the thought of it so grin
and bear it, wriggling uncomfortably in my chair. I managed to force down eland, warthog
(again) ostrich, buffalo, croc (again only this time I knew) lamb but drew the
line at Rabbit. Guests finally decided
to eat something – no wonder as they have only eaten toast for five days ! I can’t face local beer so chugging down G
& T’s – only way to get through this food fest !
Woke up in the middle of the night with the realisation that
Floyd was a flipping fraud just like my bloody magic jeans – he never ate a
damm thing – he just drank everything !!!!!!!!
DAY SIX
Breakfast at Gorges Lodge – drank far too many G & T’s
so threw down the greasy omelette with ultra-crispy bacon – my choice, not the
Chefs – and mentally prepared myself for another day. I have the day with husband alone as guests
canoeing – ha let’s see if their muscles have benefited from all the Savannah
bottles being lifted up and down
I want to vomit – my husband wants to go back and eat
another wrap at the Rainforest Restaurant – shit has this man not eaten enough
!!! Force down yet another Wrap, this
time chicken and try to look enthusiastic when he starts raving about the food
– that’s my job actually !
Back to the Lodge and on to dinner which is served at
breakneck speed – apparently the barman feels my group is an asset in the bar
as they are very festive and he wants them back. I want to curl up on the couch and go to
sleep as so full I can’t walk to my room – I am NOT partying with that crowd ! End up partying with that crowd and branch
out onto Amarula !
DAY SEVEN
I had to wait for Husband to go to the bathroom before I
could get dressed – more magic jeans only this time I had to lie on the bed to
zip them up. Haven’t done that since I
was 19, a size 6 and it was cool to wear skin tight jeans – now the jeans are
holding my skin together in case I burst !!!
Guests riding elephants and we dash into the restaurant for
a piece of toast before we leave – chef arrives with identical breakfast from
yesterday and it would have been rude to refuse – ended up with toast,
pancakes, omelette crispy bacon and cheese
Head down to Elephant Camp on our way to Hwange and almost
stop breathing in in admiration – what a beautiful place. Could feel myself reeling towards the
breakfast buffet and became afraid I might fall face first into the corn flakes
– F**K – I think I might be the one with a problem here !
Husband does it again – he wants to eat lunch !!!!!!!! Does he not realise that he could end up
having a foodaholic on his hands .. f**k Floyd, f**k everything ! He seems oblivious that Hwange Safari Lodge
serves the biggest toasted sandwiches in the world – who do they think they are
serving, Bloody Giants from Lord of the Bloody Rings !! I choose chicken nuggets with chips and
smother them with Rabroy tomato sauce – Guests look like throwing up – I eat
the lot !
We drive down to Hwange Main Camp and are collected by the
Guide from The Hide who informs us that he has bought a packed lunch in case we
are hungry. Guests start retching – bloody
show offs ! I am fixated by large white
cake box on the seat. Somehow end up with a handful of oat cookies and a lump
of cheese. Sat for 2 hours in awkward
upright position as trousers no longer moveable. Leap into stretchy gym trousers (who was I
kidding), the minute we arrive in camp.
Bloody bloody hell – they feel tight as well. Might have to resort to loose pyjama pants
tomorrow !
Not in camp for five minutes before the drums start for
dinner – is everyone nuts !!!!!! - do
these people not realise you need at least 5 hours between meals for your food
to digest properly. Have heard you can fill up on liquid before a meal and it
stops you eating so drink bottle of red wine.
Am the first at dinner table (note to self, check chair dimensions,
theirs feel really tight). Relief as
small starter served but almost caught myself licking the plate as delicious.
Drink more wine.
First in queue for
Roast Lamb. Now life and soul of the party. Family giving me dark looks but don’t care,
wine is part of my new weight loss programme.
Waiter hands me a side plate with extra lamb on it – how did he know ! Gulp down delicious dessert and Husband hands
his to me – is he trying to make a point here??? I graciously decline but waiter has to prize
my fingers off the glass when he tries to take it away – drink Husbands wine
instead… Vaguely remember Amarulas being
handed around in coffee ! Family is
abstaining which I find very rude as Savannah sales have now plummeted
DAY EIGHT
Thank goodness for early morning coffee – drop hot water all
over the biscuits which I eat anyway with a teaspoon. Breakfast again – how on earth are you
expected to eat three meals a day – it’s bloody impossible. Gamely manage to force down fruit and muesli,
eggs, bacon, toast, tomato and sausage.
Family eats Muesli – what’s wrong with their bloody toast ??? Huh
??? Am last person at the breakfast
table. Husband has gone off with Guests
for game drive. I end up lying comatose
on the pool lounger as can no longer sit upright. Have torn out page in camp magazine about an
online diet club – might be interested !
Praise the Lord – we are just having a hamburger for
lunch. Husband offers me his roll. I have mad desire to shove it up his
nose. No one else comes for tea and the
cook looks disappointed so I eat some of his banana loaf. Just licking lips when I am offered a glass
of wine – none too soon if you ask me.
Savanna Detox victims are refusing to drink anything.. Dinner is superb affair. I do toasts with two glasses of wine, one red
and one white, then realise I am drinking the man’s wine sitting next to me. Husband thinks its water. Fairly
excitable at dinner but feel I am really starting to understand this food thing
and good food deserves praise and glory..
Also discover that the more Amarula you put in coffee, the nicer it
tastesDAY NINE
Look in the mirror and recoil in total horror – my eyelids
have put on weight… They are so fat I
can hardly open my eyes and end up jabbing myself with the mascara. Go to breakfast wearing sunglasses and eat
Museli. Germans sit down to TWO pieces
of toast, two eggs, bacon, baked beans, tomato, and corn fritters! Now they decide to bloody well eat?????? Just to make a point, I go back and eat eggs, bacon, toast, baked
beans (place went up a notch or two in my estimation) and tomato. Drew the line at corn fritters as highly
allergic. Husband makes snide remarks
about throwing up ! Keep bumping into
things as glasses a bit dark but don’t care.
Now in the comfort of our own transport and can remove
glasses – no one seems to notice fat eyelids.
Not five minutes later Husband suggests stopping at Halfway House for –
wait for it – another BLOODY sandwich.
He offers to share half with me – we are going to have to have a very
serious talk when we get home. I eat it
anyway. We finally get in the car and
head for home. Will be writing to BBC food to complain – Floyd was definitely
travelling with wardrobe, hair and make up crew who are as round as Telly
Tubbies as he made them eat all the food.
I am totally dishevelled, bruised from banging into things, breathing
heavily as the sloppy pyjama pants I am travelling in are too tight and wishing
the coke in my hand is red wine. ( Note to self, make sure I book an
appointment to have my jaw wired as soon
as possible)
Thursday, May 31, 2012
VALUE vs NAME
Ok - so this is a tough one! Is it fair to say that say that exotic sounding menus attract a higher price than something with traditional wording like good old bangers and mash - even if they cost out at the same price?
What on earth have we done ?
www.jamieoliver.com
Delicate Lamb Kebabs infused with ginger and layered fresh Mango slices
Jasmine scented Couscous, infused with Jasmine tea leaves
Green bean twists
VS
Fresh fruit cocktail
Roast Lamb and Mint Sauce
Slow Roasted Potatoes and Garden Fresh vegetables
It really doesn't have the same ring to it and yet if you were to cost it out item for item, you would find that the top menu is probably less expensive than the bottom one, but I can guarantee that pricewise, you would pay considerably more for the first one ! So does this mean that our taste buds have become snob orientated...?? Exotic menus, infused with Chef-Speak = higher prices !!!
What on earth have we done ?
www.jamieoliver.com
Sunday, May 27, 2012
What time does Breakfast become Lunch ?
True to form, I was out and about this morning, restaurant hopping ... Not a hard thing to do in Bulawayo as there are only 3 restaurants that actually open on Sunday. First off was a farewell Champagne Breakfast for Paula who has succumbed to the lure of London rather than our little office at 26 on Park, I mean, what is she thinking !!!
Apart from our group, there were pockets of people huddled in the garden, braving the winter sun and the howling gale that decided to blow up in minutes. We had the customary champs, fruit juice and eggs benedict and around us we could see various plates of pseudo-breakfasts being carried backwards and forwards as the latest thing is to design your own breakfast!
Next up was my weekly rendezvous with The River Cafe to get it all dressed up and ready for Sunday Lunch and what a bun flight it turned out to be ... I arrived around 11.30, thinking the egg and bacon boys would be well fed and on their way home, only to find them drumming on the table waiting for breakfast... with the last cheese omelette going out the kitchen at 12.45.
When did breakfast become an all-day meal and when did we feel it was acceptable to crawl out of bed at 12 and go down to our “local Caff" for a bang up Full English with a side serving of Attitude if the poor waitress tries to suggest Roast Beef instead. So maybe next week I will design my own breakfast - quite fancy softly fried eggs, some sautéed carrots, a portion of chicken curry on toast, topped with mushrooms ...
This recipe is taken from How to Cook Book One and has also appeared in Sainsbury’s Magazine (Feb 1996).
Method
Ingredients |
---|
1 quantity Hollandaise Sauce (we buy ours from the Fake Woolies shop) |
6 large, very fresh eggs |
12 slices pancetta, grilled until crisp |
3 English muffins, split in half horizontally |
a little butter |
Pre-heat the grill to its highest temperature |
Make the Hollandaise Sauce. Poach the eggs (see How to poach an egg, below). When the pancetta is cooked, keep it on a warm plate while you lightly toast the split muffins on both sides.
Now butter the muffins and place them on the baking tray, then top each half with two slices of pancetta. Put a poached egg on top of each muffin half and then spoon over the hollandaise, covering the egg (there should be a little over 1 tablespoon of sauce for each egg). Now flash the Eggs Benedict under the grill for just 25-30 seconds, as close to the heat as possible, but don't take your eyes off them – they need to be tinged golden and no more. This should just glaze the surface of the hollandaise. Serve straight away on hot plates.
Good Old Delia !!!
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Its 2012 - already !
Its a fact of life and the internet that the more you sign up for to be "in the know" the less likely you are to remember the passwords you have used ... hence the reason it is now halfway through 2012, well after midnight with the cartoon Rio playing on the telly. Yes - I have finally managed to get onto my Blog after trying password no 73 ! I know, I know, smart people use the same password, but words of wisdom from the spotty guy who taught me how to access the net are still ringing in my ears some years later ...
Its a bit like being Rip Van Winkle ... what has happened since my last post ? Well lots of closed restaurants, new restaurants, new menus, old menus, new food websites, new Chefs, old Chefs, people who arent Chefs, new prices, high prices and so it goes on and on. Watch this space.
Right now I am going to bed, but not before I have added the new password to the list - now where the hell did I put it ...
Its a bit like being Rip Van Winkle ... what has happened since my last post ? Well lots of closed restaurants, new restaurants, new menus, old menus, new food websites, new Chefs, old Chefs, people who arent Chefs, new prices, high prices and so it goes on and on. Watch this space.
Right now I am going to bed, but not before I have added the new password to the list - now where the hell did I put it ...
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
YOU EITHER LIKE IT OR YOU DONT !!
I have to admit that I was not a fan of Masterchef Australia in the early stages, but somewhere along the line it has grown on me. In fact if I am honest, its more like a full blown forrest with saplings, moss and the odd bird tweeting in the background. I know all their names, what their strengths and weaknesses are. I can predict accurately where they will fall down in on a pressure test and who will win the curry challenge - Jimmy of course!! I have had endless conversations about the unfairness of bumping off Marian (not literally of course) because she didnt know the name of a "nut" !! Far better cook than the rest of them in our opinion..
The chefs at 26 on Park all sit avidly watching the re-runs inbetween service and my friend Artie has been known to dash into the kitchen to try out the recipe - hot off the TV Screen. One thing I wont do is cheat - I dont want to know who won - considering the programme is a year late and Series 3 is already on the go. I will wait along with everyone else (who didnt whip onto the net for a peek) and wait patiently for the next series. Lets hope they have Clares eyes, Mariams spunk and Alvins grace ..
The chefs at 26 on Park all sit avidly watching the re-runs inbetween service and my friend Artie has been known to dash into the kitchen to try out the recipe - hot off the TV Screen. One thing I wont do is cheat - I dont want to know who won - considering the programme is a year late and Series 3 is already on the go. I will wait along with everyone else (who didnt whip onto the net for a peek) and wait patiently for the next series. Lets hope they have Clares eyes, Mariams spunk and Alvins grace ..
Master Chef - Clare Winton Burn has a few words to say !!
After being voted out of Master Chef Australia, Season Claire Winton Burn went on to write a food blog before returning back to work as a lawyer - here is one of her blogs on Whats all the Fuss about ..
September 3, 2010Opinion
Are you a fussy eater? Grudgingly, I must confess that I am. This isn't a result of allergies or ailments, it's simply a matter of knowing what I like and liking what I know. What's more, I'm not alone.
A quick survey of my friends and family revealed a minefield of pet peeves when it comes to food. There are the obvious candidates: snails, offal, eyeballs, feet, ears and so on. For many people, any part of an animal that isn't muscle elicits a visceral squeamishness they just can't overcome. Likewise, ethically questionable foods (foie gras, shark fin and whale) and any animal that's been kept as a pet (dog, horse, rabbit and so on). Dried fruit got a good run in the voting, as did shellfish (especially oysters) and anything that tastes of the sea. Strongly flavoured foods such as game meats, beetroot and vegemite got several mentions. Then there was everything from watermelon to capsicum, from bland food to spicy food. One friend has a particular dislike of ginger and lemongrass because they make her feel ? as if she's "eating a flower patch".
"It's like my tongue does that squirming that a child does when it's being kissed by a smelly old aunty. Get off!"
The consistency of food is another source of complaint. A number of people say they'll steer clear of edibles that have a "pre-masticated", "viscous" or "vomitous" consistency (porridge and overcooked rice were popular examples). Someone else doesn't like cake because it's too dry, while another doesn't like runny eggs because they're too wet. Temperature was also cited as an issue: some like it hot, some like it cold, others don't care so long as it's not tepid. Then there's colour. Green vegetables appear to be an issue. I heard of one girl who would cry if confronted with red food in any form. However irrational it may seem, there's no doubting that food ?evokes strong feelings in people.
I've always been particular about what I eat. As a kid, I was a paid-up member of the plain food brigade. I stuck to a strict diet of boiled eggs, vegemite sandwiches and chops. Anything that deviated from my regime of choice was, if not a recipe for disaster, certainly a source of disappointment and a welcome source of titbits for the family dog. So inflexible was I that my parents are scarred for life (my poor mum can barely look at a lamb chop, let alone eat one). It wasn't an entirely one-way street though. My folks persisted in challenging my preferences and there was always an expectation that I would eat everything that was served on my plate, whether I liked it or not. "Think of the starving children in Africa," was a regular refrain at the kitchen table.
I distinctly remember a particularly bitter dispute over brussels sprouts. Like many kids, they were my bete noire (or my bete verte, as it were). I would eat broccoli and beans, even asparagus at a pinch, but brussels sprouts were a bridge too far for my unsophisticated palate. So at my parents' insistence I sat at the table for hours, refusing to eat the offending items. In the end I relented, berating my parents for their cruelty all the while. And to this day, I still can't come at brussels sprouts.
This is not a unique experience. I reckon just about everyone would share a similar childhood memory or a similar experience to my parents. So it stands to reason that much of the literature and advice around feeding fussy eaters is focused on feeding fussy kids. But what about feeding fussy adults?? Kids will tell you straight out what they like and don't like, but one of the curious traits of adult fussy eaters is how shy they are.
How often do you hear even the most fastidious of people claim that they'll "eat anything" before later revealing there's a long list of things they don't like eating - or even worse, not saying anything, but delivering that insidious slight of the half-eaten meal after you've slaved over a hot stove all day. There's no doubting the well-intentioned nature of this reticence, informed as it is by a desire to be accommodating. But for a cook, these stealth fussy eaters are a real menace. Challenging though it is to be presented with a list of dislikes, at least everyone knows where they stand. Forewarned, forearmed, as they say.
This is why the trend of doing away with a traditional menu in favour of more impromptu dining strikes me as flawed. Don't get me wrong, I love the thrill and novelty of dining out not knowing exactly what's going to come out of the kitchen. It's like playing restaurant roulette. But when I last dined in this fashion, we were invited only to specify any dietary requirements or dislikes. The difficulty with this is that apart from brussels sprouts, there are very few things that I won't eat. But there is a much longer list of things I'd rather not eat, or flavour combinations I'm not wild about, none of which I felt I could mention to our waiter. And therein lies the problem.
It could be the process should have better managed to take account of the things I actually like rather than just those I can't or won't eat. And I suppose the chef could have struck it lucky. But on this particular occasion he missed the mark. So I ended up paying top dollar for a meal that didn't do it for me. That experience was more than four years ago and I haven't been back to that restaurant since. Like the brussels sprouts saga, for this fussy eater, it's a case of once tasted, twice shy.
A quick survey of my friends and family revealed a minefield of pet peeves when it comes to food. There are the obvious candidates: snails, offal, eyeballs, feet, ears and so on. For many people, any part of an animal that isn't muscle elicits a visceral squeamishness they just can't overcome. Likewise, ethically questionable foods (foie gras, shark fin and whale) and any animal that's been kept as a pet (dog, horse, rabbit and so on). Dried fruit got a good run in the voting, as did shellfish (especially oysters) and anything that tastes of the sea. Strongly flavoured foods such as game meats, beetroot and vegemite got several mentions. Then there was everything from watermelon to capsicum, from bland food to spicy food. One friend has a particular dislike of ginger and lemongrass because they make her feel ? as if she's "eating a flower patch".
"It's like my tongue does that squirming that a child does when it's being kissed by a smelly old aunty. Get off!"
I've always been particular about what I eat. As a kid, I was a paid-up member of the plain food brigade. I stuck to a strict diet of boiled eggs, vegemite sandwiches and chops. Anything that deviated from my regime of choice was, if not a recipe for disaster, certainly a source of disappointment and a welcome source of titbits for the family dog. So inflexible was I that my parents are scarred for life (my poor mum can barely look at a lamb chop, let alone eat one). It wasn't an entirely one-way street though. My folks persisted in challenging my preferences and there was always an expectation that I would eat everything that was served on my plate, whether I liked it or not. "Think of the starving children in Africa," was a regular refrain at the kitchen table.
I distinctly remember a particularly bitter dispute over brussels sprouts. Like many kids, they were my bete noire (or my bete verte, as it were). I would eat broccoli and beans, even asparagus at a pinch, but brussels sprouts were a bridge too far for my unsophisticated palate. So at my parents' insistence I sat at the table for hours, refusing to eat the offending items. In the end I relented, berating my parents for their cruelty all the while. And to this day, I still can't come at brussels sprouts.
This is not a unique experience. I reckon just about everyone would share a similar childhood memory or a similar experience to my parents. So it stands to reason that much of the literature and advice around feeding fussy eaters is focused on feeding fussy kids. But what about feeding fussy adults?? Kids will tell you straight out what they like and don't like, but one of the curious traits of adult fussy eaters is how shy they are.
How often do you hear even the most fastidious of people claim that they'll "eat anything" before later revealing there's a long list of things they don't like eating - or even worse, not saying anything, but delivering that insidious slight of the half-eaten meal after you've slaved over a hot stove all day. There's no doubting the well-intentioned nature of this reticence, informed as it is by a desire to be accommodating. But for a cook, these stealth fussy eaters are a real menace. Challenging though it is to be presented with a list of dislikes, at least everyone knows where they stand. Forewarned, forearmed, as they say.
This is why the trend of doing away with a traditional menu in favour of more impromptu dining strikes me as flawed. Don't get me wrong, I love the thrill and novelty of dining out not knowing exactly what's going to come out of the kitchen. It's like playing restaurant roulette. But when I last dined in this fashion, we were invited only to specify any dietary requirements or dislikes. The difficulty with this is that apart from brussels sprouts, there are very few things that I won't eat. But there is a much longer list of things I'd rather not eat, or flavour combinations I'm not wild about, none of which I felt I could mention to our waiter. And therein lies the problem.
It could be the process should have better managed to take account of the things I actually like rather than just those I can't or won't eat. And I suppose the chef could have struck it lucky. But on this particular occasion he missed the mark. So I ended up paying top dollar for a meal that didn't do it for me. That experience was more than four years ago and I haven't been back to that restaurant since. Like the brussels sprouts saga, for this fussy eater, it's a case of once tasted, twice shy.
Read more: http://www.smh.com.au/opinion/society-and-culture/whats-all-the-fuss-about-20100903-14tah.html#ixzz1VJFqrNxq
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