How We Change

I used to absolutely abhor vegetables. If it wasn't a raw carrot or broccoli, maybe cauliflower, there was no WAY I was going to touch it, smell it, or bring it anywhere near my mouth, if I could get away with it.

I once was forced to eat a brusselsprout by my grandmother. I was caught in the middle of a mother-in-law and daughter-in-law war about making me try foods I had already decided I didn't like simply based on the smell test. If a food smelled bad, I wasn't going to eat it. Mama made me try a bite, I didn't like it, and then Grandmama said I should eat different kinds of food. Mama said, "Fine. Leyla, your grandmother is making you eat the brusselsprout." I cried. Nine years old, and I cried over a brusselsprout. And this was my awesome grandma! I ate that brusselsprout with tears and snot on it, and I've never eaten another one since.

In the last few years, I've begun to eat salad (only Caesar, with croutons, parmesan cheese, and ranch on the side-I still don't do ice berg well.), pizza with stuff on it (onions, roma tomatoes, and bell peppers, all of which were a definite no way a few years ago), and, tonight I ate penne with "rustic lentil sauce." Lentils, as they are more commonly called in our house, has lentils, onions, carrots, and celery in it. I can't believe I eat that and that I like it.

I think getting old (I've hit my mid-twenties already.) definitely changes you. I have been the pickiest eater the world has ever known for my entire life. (Only last week, I couldn't stomach the ravioli at a restaurant I ate because I was grossed out by some vegetable pretending to be chicken I couldn't identify and greasy cheese oozing out of the ravioli. We got that dinner free, thanks to a newbie waiter. I told him I didn't care for it when he asked if we wanted a to go box for the ravioli. Then he proceeded to take it off the bill, unasked. I didn't argue too hard.) These days, I'm eating all sorts of nasty stuff voluntarily, and what's more, I'm actually enjoying it.

In addition to getting old, my husband is a fabulous cook, and he's learned how to get me to eat gross stuff and like it. I don't know why no one earlier in my life couldn't figure that out, but I'm not going to give this guy up for anything.