Picky Without the Drama
If there’s one phrase that remains a constant in my life, it’s “Can you stop yucking my yum!” No, this isn’t a cry for help, but rather a reflection of my exotic eating habits.
My “not picky” origin story began at the ripe age of six when I first read Pinkalicious. For those unfamiliar, Pinkalicious is about a little girl who, against her mom’s orders, greedily eats too many pink cupcakes—so many that she wakes up the next day with a completely pink face, pink hair, and even pink clothes. Her mom takes her to the doctor, who diagnoses her with an acute case of Pinkitis and prescribes a strict diet of green food as the antidote to return her to normal.
While the whole book is drenched in shades of hot pink, there’s one green page that sticks out like a sore thumb. It’s the most dreaded page, feared by kids everywhere, featuring a spread of pickles, peas, spinach, and romaine lettuce. I’m willing to bet I was the only kid who flipped to that page, saw those vibrant greens, and immediately screamed, “YUM!”
From that moment on, I guess you could say my love for food— and especially for the strange and unexpected— was born.
While I’m not sure if it was nature or nurture that wove these exotic, uncommon eating desires into my lifestyle, I’m fortunate that food doesn’t scare me— if it’s edible, I’m game.
Now, being diagnosed with celiac unwillingly pushed me into the "picky" category—or what I like to call “those with food drama.” Let me tell you, the drama is real. My older sister will eat swordfish but can’t even fathom the idea of chicken—not even chicken nuggets. Being picky is all about preference, so if I had it my way, I’d put myself in the "picky, hold the drama" category instead. I’m not picky— just diseased.
My "anything goes when it comes to food" nature has become such a staple in my life that it’s a personality trait I’m loud and proud about. Close friends— and now you— are often surprised by my love for bologna sandwiches, my serious hummus addiction, my habit of making spring rolls more often than sandwiches, and my tendency to put sprouts on just about everything. Oh, and let’s not forget about kimchi. Now you may see why my yums are others’ yucks—but real foodies have no limits, no pickiness— NO PREFERENCE. We welcome all foods because there’s no harm in trying something new.
Maybe I’m not preaching to your choir, and maybe you’re questioning whether you should keep going... well, you should. Food is my passion, and I’m sure there’s something in your life that keeps your eyes peeled, your ears perked, and your desires growing.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I did not choose this lifestyle, it found me. Sure, I’m upset that I can’t share gyoza (potstickers—pork or chicken wrapped in Japanese dough) with friends and family, but you’d be surprised at how frequently I get to dig into odd dishes and savor new experiences. Celiac or not, food has a way of keeping me curious and hungry for whatever’s next.
With that, I encourage you to take risks with your eating habits— explore menu items, purchase that weird-looking dish you’ve never heard of, or pick up an ingredient you can’t even pronounce. Step out of your comfort zone and let your taste buds go on an adventure. You never know when you’ll discover your new favorite food—or at least get a good story out of it. Maybe one day I’ll tell you about that time I tried guinea pig.