I understand picky eating. Growing up I made going out to dinner as a family a nightmare. I would only eat things that were white.
The local Italian was the safest. I liked noodles. But if anyone dared adorn my dinner with cheese, tomato, or heavens above, pepper the reaction wasn’t pleasant. Pasta and melted butter. That was it. At home I wasn’t much easier. I remember taking ‘salad sandwiches’ in my lunchbox. My version had just margarine and ice berg lettuce on them. A system of rewards was implemented to help me reform. If I ate all of a multicoloured meal I got dessert (usually plain white Peter’s ice cream). I also got a star on a chart on the wall.
Slowly over the years I’ve morphed into an omnivore. My stepfather had a lot to do with it. Instead of the ready strings of genetics to bind a family, shared time at the table became more important. He had adventurous tastes and so I began to broaden mine. Asian flavours became ok and chilli passed in moderation.
Dashing the final hurdles of my pickiness was inspired by Geoffrey Steingarten’s essay, ‘The man who ate everything’. When he became the food critic for American Vogue in the late 80’s he decided he had let his food phobias go. So he tackled each of his aversions with the exposure technique. It reasons if you eat something ten times, you’ll slowly adjust.
So off I went. First it was tomato sandwiches (the sog of the bread once upset me). Then mackerel (the bones and the aggressive oiliness). Then sea urchin (like kissing a manky sock). I’m still not a huge fan of bruised bananas or Vegemite. But that’s it.