I think my taste buds are maturing. This seem remarkable in light of the fact that the rest of me doesn’t seem to be doing the same.
Which reminds me – I must tell you about the three rounds of Jacks I played in the lobby of my apartment building last night. It was a spontaneous decision when the gaggle of wee girls already there became embroiled in a debate over the rules.
I stepped in to referee since none of the moms present seem to have the first CLUE how to play. I am now a hero among the small fry and parents alike.
One mom actually asked in wonder, “Where did you learn to play Jacks?” I was stumped since I don’t remember learning. I just remember playing. Since the beginning of time. Through my own camp experience and my time as a camp counselor as well. I excelled at Jacks despite rather short pudgy fingers.
But back to the question of taste buds:
The Greening of Me:
I am eating so much more “green” lately. I don’t mean “green” in the current ‘envirophile’ way — though I am bringing my own tote to the store instead of using plastic bags. No, I mean green in the old fashioned way. More veggies. This is was so remarkable in fact that my mother, a woman of vast experience and strong constitution, still goes breathless and dazed when she sees me pick up an asparagus stalk. As a child, I ate a limited number of green veggies and it was limited to the amount my mother could get me to eat before she gave up in exhaustion and frustration. This food war went on for years. There was an occasional minor skirmish over fish but I conceded that battle in 1987 at Manzi’s in London. Delicious. Sadly, Manzi’s is closed now but it will always be one of my favorite eateries ever.
Back to the greens of my childhood. How I loathed seeing anything green from the plant world on my plate. Carrots were fine, potatoes of course, corn, tomatoes, etc. But green? No. Even now, there are green veggies I can’t cope with but they are the more aromatic greens. It’s the aromatic part that gets me. Do NOT get me started on broccoli and Brussels sprouts or we shall be here all day. Blech! But sure – bring on the snap peas, green beans, asparagus, spinach (I really prefer it raw in salads but cooked as fine as long as it isn’t creamed) and that sort of thing.
The other remarkable taste bud evolution that I seem to have experienced is, in my opinion, even more of an earth-shattering shock.
Chocolate by Any Other Name:
I don’t know when it happened but my love affair with chocolate seems to have evolved into something more akin to warm acquaintance-ship. If you’d told me even two years ago that this was possible, I would have scoffed at you. Not merely laughed, but openly scoffed. Now, there are moments here and there when the dark chocolate Dove bar on display beside the check out counter still sounds good but more and more over the past year or so, I’ve found chocolate to be — I don’t even know the word. Not cloying — but something but along those lines. I’ve gone completely off chocolate ice cream or chocolate icing topped-cupcakes. Chocolate chip muffins don’t even get a second glance
Finally, my breakfast mainstay of many, MANY years – the Venti No-Whip Mocha Frappaccino has become a thing of the past.
Habits Are Hard to Break:
When I say years, I mean for a decade my morning was centered around getting a Venti No-Whip Mocha Frappaccino and blueberry muffin before engaging in anything remotely resembled social interaction. It was a must. I knew it was ridiculously overpriced for what it was. I knew it was sabotaging my efforts to lose weight. I mean, I’m not stupid. Of course I knew it. But at some point, it became “auto-pilot” – you know how it is with habits. You aren’t even thinking about what you are doing. You are just – doing.
So about 2 months ago, I was in Starbucks as I was every morning. I was half asleep and gazing around while the people in front of my ordered. I don’t know it was THAT day where everything just sort of clicked or whether I was just a bit more awake than usual that day but suddenly, it struck me that paying over $5 for something that was essentially ice was the height of stupidity. Suddenly, the math was happening in my head. I was paying HOW much a week, a month for this ice coated with chocolate syrup? The outrageousness of it all woke me up and suddenly I was focused on the menu board where (thanks to mini mayor) the calories in my overpriced breakfast were laid out for me in black & white. How could something that was essentially ice be 600 calories? Again, let me emphasize that I knew intellectually what the calorie count of the drink was. I’d looked it up previously, seen it and still hadn’t been deterred. But with it now in front of me, price just to the right and HUGE scoops of ice going into the blender, something just clicked.
My epiphany didn’t quite shut down my auto pilot though and I took the drink I’d ordered (I did skip the muffin that morning (350 calories) but as soon as I got outside and took a sip, it all shut down. It was OK but that was all. It was not worth all that money and it certainly wasn’t worth all the extra work I was having to do to keep from turning into a house. I threw it away and went home. I still needed coffee or course but I made my own and iced it. It’s actually MUCH better stuff.
For about a week, the new morning routine was tough. You do something the same way for so long and it’s bound to be. But you know what? A friend of mine had quit a long-time smoking habit a few weeks before and while it hadn’t been easy for her, she’d done it. Hell, I thought. THAT is a struggle. This should be nothing. If she can stay on course, so can I. That thought saw me through the first week. Then I got on the scale. Amazing what eliminating 950 calories a day will do to the bottom line on the scale. THAT got me through week two. What sealed it? About two weeks into it, I was out shopping with aforementioned newly-minted non-smoker. It was very hot out and it began to rain. We ducked into a nearby Starbucks (they are thick on the ground in Manhattan. You’d be hard-pressed to find anything else to duck into).
She ordered an iced tea and I thought, “I’m going to treat myself since I’ve been so good. I’m gonna have a Mocha Frappaccino!” To prove to myself that I had some modicum of self control, I ordered a tall. I ordered. It came. I took a sip.
You know what? I really don’t like Mocha Frappaccinos anymore. They are just NOT refreshing and they taste like – well, considering the amount of ice and milk, they are shockingly sicky-sweet. Add the filmy quality of the milk and it all shuts down. I threw it away and that was the last penny I ever spent on a Frappaccino.
I don’t know how it happened, why it all came together in a relatively short period of time but it has me looking at many things – even beyond food – differently. I tend to think about ‘whether I really want this or need that’ instead of viewing food as something to be snatched and grabbed at without thinking.
Good lord. Maybe I’ve grown up after all.