I'll never forget the first meal I had at John's house when we were in the beginnings of our relationship. A contractor with social services, John ran a therapeutic group home for teenage boys-besides providing a safe place for them to live, he also taught four boys ranging from 14 to 18 years old how to cook, do their laundry, and clean. Each day of the week, one of the teens would take on cooking for the group.
That evening, the meal was simple; roasted chicken breast, steamed vegetables, and rice. As was the next evening. In fact, for a week straight, the menu never wavered.
At first, I couldn't figure it out. Why would they eat the same thing every night, when they have a full kitchen? In my tiny apartment all I had to cook with was a toaster oven, hot plate, and electric skillet yet I was cranking out everything from baked chicken burritoes to tuna casserole, stir fries and perogies. By the end of week two, I couldn't stand it anymore and begged them to let me cook lest I begin sprouting feathers. Soon I was in the kitchen, following a recipe that I had never tried before from the back of a box of lasagne noodles. The lasagne turned out perfectly, and from then on I was asked to cook on a regular basis. Eventually that grew to teaching the kids how they could also cook some of those dishes, and never again did the menu return to baked chicken and rice.
These days, I'd say that move was ballsy-if I had completely failed making that lasagne, I'm not sure they would have let me cook again. However, what I didn't know was that John, even though he ate every bite of my lasagna, didn't really like it. Much to my shock, after years of marriage I discovered that he preferred the daily chicken and rice. I had, in fact, married a man who has completely different views on food and tastes than I do. I'm an adventurous eater, always willing to try almost anything once, who gets bored easily if I have the same dish too often. John, on the other hand is one who eats because he has to, not because he really enjoys it. He sticks to the same things and rarely wavers, to the point where he'd eat the same thing every single day if I cooked that way. Why is that? Well, partly health reasons, but also that he just doesn't like certain foods. The list of things he'll eat is really very small, and a huge challenge when I'm cooking when you couple it with diabetes type 2 and other health issues.
Sometimes, it's funny-like when we are on vacation and he eats a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich in every restaurant throughout the western United States. It's become a family joke that Kevin and I know his tastes so well, we can scan a menu and tell you exactly what he's going to order. Sometimes when I'm trying to cook, it's downright frustrating.
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People, I've found, aren't understanding of those who have food aversions. It's okay to say you don't like one or two things, (for instance, I don't like cantaloupe, pork or butter cream icing) but if you don't like a multitude of things, you are 'picky' and the eye rolling begins. Some say that they should just eat what's placed in front of them or not at all. Others say they should be forced to just get over themselves and grow up, already.
I disagree. This is my husband, the man I adore, and I want to make the dinner table a place of enjoyment. I want what I place in front of him to be something he looks forward to, and for the focus to be on family time, not arguing over food. So I do what a lot of people advise against-I make him separate meals. Now, it's not all the time, and truly, I have found ways to do this that cut down on the work for me. If I make Kevin and I steaks, he gets chicken. I've learned how to change just about every dish that requires hamburger into ones that use ground turkey. Instead of rice, I give him salad. When we have soup, I make sandwiches as well and he has those. I even freeze single sized servings of things that John will love, and he gets those on nights when I make something he wouldn't eat. Yes, it is a little extra work, but I think it's completely worth it.
Over the years I realized that much of the frustrations that I felt really were my own issues; John will never, ever complain if I serve something he doesn't like. He just eats the side dishes and then makes a sandwich if he's still hungry. I had to let go of the fact that he really doesn't care that much about dinner, and while I could practically kill myself making a turkey dinner, he would be truly happy with a peanut butter sandwich. Food for me was an expression of love, but to him, it's just food. When I realized that and let go of any expectations or emotional attachment I had to making a dinner he would enjoy, I felt free to cook anything and not feel guilty that he wasn't feeling the same enjoyment that we were.
When that happened, there was an unexpected bonus. Without the pressure, John has tried a huge amount of dishes that I never expected he would, and over the years has slowly expanded his repertoire to include a great many dishes he would never have touched years before. By not labeling John as 'picky', and providing a variety of options to choose from at dinner, our son embraced trying a little of everything and has grown into a teenager who will eat just about anything. Still, after nearly twenty years of marriage, I'll admit that it's a bit of a thrill when I hit on a recipe that John loves and I get to watch him tuck into something I've made with a big grin on his face.
Sometimes, just for old time's sake, I even whip up some baked chicken and veggies.
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