Texture and Food Issues

I suppose you remember that I have food issues.

The truth is I'm food weird...lol. A lot of my food issues have to do with texture. Just like your average two-year old (or so I'm told), if the texture of my food isn't correct then I can't eat it.

What constitutes a texture issue?

LOL...the answer to that question is longer than Steven Tyler's tongue. If you don't know who Steven Tyler is then you probably didn't grow up in the USA, or are Amish, or need to go to bed so you can go to school in the morning. But to keep you in the loop, imagine that an anteater had a child with a large mouth bullfrog. Put that child into a pair of skinny spandex pants, tag on a shaggy wig and a play some rock music with a driving beat. You have just know created your own Steven Tyler, rock star.

Now Steven actually could sing and I liked the band, but even his fans admit he has a freakily large mouth and tongue. Well, except for that guy from Kiss who can lick his shoes while standing but that's just odd.

Any way back to food, I have texture issues.

I don't eat pasta. I don't eat noodles of any kind. I usually don't eat at Italian resturants for some reason. Noodles feel likes boiled skin. Yet on your tongue, it's smooth, slick, and gummy. Awful. Like eating something that had been pre-chewed, reformed, and fed back to me. I am not a baby bird, no regurge food needed.

I don't eat rice. Nope, no rice. It's like legless grubs crawling around in your mouth. I've tried to eat them steamed, backed, flavored, scented. I just don't like rice. I have on rare occasions after a half a bottle of Nyquil, I can finish two to three spoonfuls of rice pudding. I usually spit it back up later but I can swallow, I don't enjoy it. Do you think this is why I'm single? Dunno.

I don't eat pudding. Honestly, why would anyone eat pudding? Flavored snot. And Tapioca is chunky, flavored snot. Double yuck.

Yogurt. Never, never, never. And if you hate the word never, how about I hope the heck the answer is no. Not only am I lactose intolerant, I refuse to eat any product that has to sour before you eat it. Plus, people hide fruit in it. Gross. I'd rather eat puddding.

Meat that is juicy. If you poke it with your fork and it spurts like a juice box, it's not done so put it back in the oven. And under cooked meat is pinkish, rubbery, and it doesn't need to be chewed. Much like a seal, you just bark and swallow it whole. Not for me.

Boiled veggies. Do I need to explain this? Limp, lukewarm, dead veggies. It's like you smuggled broccoli in your pants and forgot and put them in the washer and dryer. Disgusting.

There are thousand of other things I don't eat because of the texture including jello, flan, custard, jelly/jam, anything with loaf in the title, shredded meat.

Yet, I'm not a bad dinner guest. I'm great at hiding food under food and I'm really happy with a pack of plain saltines and a bottle of water. See no cooking? So why do you bitch when I don't want to come to dinner? I mean, you think you'd appreciate the night away from the stove. It's not your cooking. Well it is your cooking but it's everyone else's too.

I'm not a food person.

I'm a fat food hater.

LOL.

Tirz

Food Isn't Just Food

Food isn't just food to me. It should be but it isn't. Food issues start when you associate something beyond nutrition to what you're eating. So many people try to sell me on the value of being a vegetarian and they're never going to win that argument with me.

They're arguing with logic and reason and health. That won't work against the emotional need my meat and junk food fulfill for me.

And no, I don't have anything against being a vegetarian. Several of my good friends are Veggie or Vegan. It's just not for me.

Part of it is that I really like meat. It's my favorite part of any meal.

Second, is that meat was a huge part of my childhood. And yes, even I have a few fond memories of that time period. Meat designated your place in the hierarchy of my family.

My Dad got first pick of the carnal treasure. The biggest piece, the best piece, my Dad got the option of seconds. He was on the only one that could eat two pieces of meat without my Mother having a mini-seizure.

Next, were any of the other adult males in the house. Sometimes the Old Man (my father) would bring work hands up to the house for lunch. All the kids hated to see a trail of work hands heading toward the house, that meant less for us.

All the guest females were served next.

Then all the rest of the women and children.

As a kid, by the time I got to eat almost everything was cold and only the less perfect pieces of meat were left. The charcoal burger, the darker pork-chop, a goose neck. On some days, there wasn't any beef, pork, or chicken left when it was my turn to eat. Instead, I got soup beans (pinto beans) cooked in pork fat.

I like soup beans but part of me, that child part of me, still thinks that getting the good cut of meat means I'm valued, that I'm important. That I'm not waiting to be last anymore. Meat makes me feel like I'm successful.

And it tastes really, really good. Better than anything else on the table. I'd rather have a meat than dessert.

Yes, I know, I know that messed up in the head. I didn't say I was normal...lol.

Besides, I grew up in a meat culture. Everything had a meat or animal by product contained in it. The beans, both soup and green beans, had meat products in included. Fried potatoes were cooked in bacon fat. Biscuits baked in bacon fat...by the way, this makes the biscuits crunchy on the outside and super soft and warm inside. Those things were heaven...I haven't had one in about five years. I still dream about them.

I can honestly say that it is impossible to be a vegetarian and eat at my mother's house.

But if meat is acceptance to me, potato chips are comfort. Whenever I'm stressed or upset, I want potato chips, usually Grippos. My mother could be...difficult on her best days and a nightmare on her worst.

The thing with my mother is that she hated for you fight back. If you fought her, she'd escalate. So I learned early to go limp and still, just like they tell you when a bear attacks. You curl up and hope you don't get clawed to badly.

But swallowing your anger, your words, your needs will make you crazy inside. When my mother made me crazy, I ate potato chips. Handfuls, bagfuls...I needed them. If my mouth was full I could cuss or scream or tell the truth because to do those things would paint a big red bull's eye on my forehead.

And as unhappy as I was, I wasn't sure I wanted to die. So I stuffed all my feelings down my throat in salty little potato chips.

Mt. Dew is my other addiction. Although I've switched to Diet, I still love that stuff. When you're afraid to sleep, it'll keep you up. When you've cried for hours, curled in a ball in the dark, it's wonderfully sweet to your sore throat.

So when people try to sell me on the health benefits of water, steamed veggies, and rice by telling me it's good for me, they've already lost the argument. Food for me isn't just food. It's meaning.

And yeah, I know, I know...I'm going to spend a long time in therapy one day.

Until then, happy eating.

Tirz

Is That Burger Naked?

Nothing should be simpler than an old-fashioned burger but people make it complicated. First, you can’t just order a burger, you have to pick what kind of burger. Beef, buffalo, ostrich, and this is just the first choice.

I suggest you pick beef or sirloin, these are the best two choices according to me. And it is all about me, isn’t it?

Bison/buffalo though is rather dry because of the low-fat content but it is edible. I suggest, and I rarely suggest this, put something damp on it, like ketchup. Ostrich? We are nothing even going there. And chicken is not a burger, it’s a sandwich. Big difference.

Okay, you picked your meat. Then, the bun comes along. It’s not just a bun anymore. It’s a setting. Seeded, non-seeded, toasted, white, wheat, over-sized, undersized…etc. Whatever your bread choice, the restaurant will proudly spew loving words about what they suggest on their menu. Most of that is crap.

About 40% of the calories in your burger are coming from the bun. Yes, the bun. So, is the bread that exciting now? Personally, I just take the bread off and eat the meat plain. If you don’t want do that and look weird, may I suggest throwing away the bottom part of your bun. Take the top part, cut it in half and use the halves to cuddle your meat. If you have to cuddle it. Honestly, it’s fine naked.

You have your meat and your bun.

Now, you can pick from the 83 possible toppings. Ranch, BBQ, Special Sauce, Chipolte Sauce, Italian Sauce etc… Remember, whatever you dump on your burger will cover up the meat taste. You are paying 15 bucks for this burger at a nice resturant, don’t waste the meat. Meat good…mmm.

You picked your meat, your bun, your toppings. But you aren’t done yet.

Now, pick your cheese. I’m lactose intolerant myself but you get to choose cheddar, mozzarella (or however you spell it), hot pepper cheese, or from a list of a dozen other cheeses.

Then, when that’s done, you pick the sides.

By then you’ll be exhausted from your choice selections, I suggest you lay across the table and sleep while your burger cools.

The meat is the best meat available. It’s probably Grade A USDA Angus beef. Might even be Kobe beef. Why mess it up with a pound of toppings and a dozen seasonings.

Just order the damn thing naked and enjoy it.

Burgers made simple.

Apple Lover

I'm an apple addict. I love the sweet crunchy goodness of them. With all the varieties, there is an endless supply of new textures and tastes. Recently, my niece vehemently claimed that she hated apples. Stunned, I asked her what kind of apples did she hate and I was dumbfounded when she said, "You know, just apples."

Just apples? There is no such thing as just an apple. It was then I realized why kids don't eat apples and fruit in large quantities. Beyond the competition of candy, power bars, and soda; kids never get a chance to sample all the exciting flavors.

Schools put up posters and ads about eating more fruit, about eating apples, but then they serve small, mealy apples most of the time. The cheapest, least interesting apple option. Dry, tasteless, chewy, thick skinned apples that lay on your tongue like paste. No wonder kids say they hate apples. If a that is the only apple that you had ever tasted, you'd hate apples too.

There are so many wonderful apples worth eating. Red Delicious, Golden Delicious, Pink Lady, HoneyCrisp, Jonagolds, MacIntosh, Fuji, and Galas are just a few of the apple options. They are as varied as people.

Red Delicious are a nice basic apple. They aren't exciting but they offend the fewest people. They have a simple pale sweetness that is pleasant but not earth shattering. Golden Delicious apples, their sister apple, have thin yellow skin and the flavor is wonderfully mellow.

Granny Smith's apples vibrate with green goodness. However, they are very, very sour. These are not an apple for the weak. These are dare-devil apples. They are hard, sour, and crunchy. Actually, they are perfect for dipping into heated caramel dip. A fantastic treat for any winter day.

Gala apples are small, affordable and decent. Smooth, autumn flavor with a decent crunch. A good beginner apple for someone who doesn't want to spend a lot of cash to try some new brands. Galas can be picked up any local grocery. Fuji's are slightly more biting than a Gala but they are a solid beginner apple as well.

My favorite ones are the Pink Lady apples. Pink Lady apples are the perfect blend of tart and sweet. The crunch is wonderful, the texture divine. Mmm...just thinking about Pink Ladies makes me want one. The worst thing about a Pink Lady is that they're expensive as hell and they also bruise easily.

Another new apple on the market is the exciting HoneyCrisp. It has a sharp, kicky taste that makes my tongue water with excitement. I just wish that if schools, work, and the government would like us to grab an apple-that they'd give us one worth eating.

Apples like people come in all colors, flavors, sizes, and textures. Your kids don't like apples? What kinds have they tried?

Pickiest Eater in the World--Chicken Lover

Okay, perhaps pickiest eater in the world is pushing it but I'm definitely in the top ten. I'm a chubby girl who doesn't like food but who does love to eat. After hearing my daily rants on why something tastes bad over the years, my good friend, Heather, suggested I write a blog on what does and doesn't work for me food-wise.

Plus, she thought it hilarious when I started Weight Watchers, when I detested salads. I will never eat salad. I don't like salad. Salad is not a friggin' meal. I don't feel fulfilled when someone sends me a cheesy bowl of lettuce covered in drippy sauce and stale bread. Ugh, no thanks.

The first time I did Weight Watchers, I lost 90 pounds. Yes, 90 pounds and I didn't eat one salad, not one. I did fall off the wagon for a bit, went back to eating my favorite, potato chips, and gained a large portion of my weight back. Not all of it, thank God, but a chunk of it. So now I'm back in WW and the new leader is salad this, salad that. Carrots for a snack. What normal, non-anorexic person eats carrots for a snack?

My last leader told us to only make changes you can live with. That's my goal this time, changes I can live with. So, screw salads for lunch. Just the thought makes me want to start purging so I can get a chunk of nice, well-cooked meat.

Yes, meat.

I know the vegetarians are cringing. I have a few vegan friends, I understand the idea behind the thought. But have you ever met a chicken? A live chicken? There is nothing noble about an animal that walks on its own crap, poops in its own food, and will try to peck out your eyes with very little provocation. Geez, I only walked through the yard.

Not only are the mean and dirty, they are ever so slightly stupid. So while I don't relish the idea of killing one, I don't mind eating one as long as it was killed humanely, and massively disinfected.

I guess that's what the cannibals would say about the missionaries but its all I can give you. I like meat, so I eat meat.

Now, back to eating chicken. Grilled or baked chicken in restaurants is always a nightmare for me. Like pork, chicken asorbs the flavors of what you cook with it. So restaurants cover it in lemon, powder it with pepper, rub it in non-disclosed seasonings, or kill it with garlic.

I like chicken. I don't want to taste the seasonings. I didn't order a plate of garlic and pepper. I ordered chicken and that is what I want. Restaurants also want their chicken to be 'tender' and 'juicy'. I'm shuddering now. If I don't need a knife to cut it, then it isn't cooked long enough. Anyone who has had food poisoning and vomited from both ends, knows that tender meat is scary. If you cut into the chicken breast, and juice pops out like you stabbed a juice box, put the damn thing back on the grill.

So to get around this, I don't ordered grilled or baked chicken in resturants. I save that for when I'm cooking at home and I can cut the meat into tiny pieces to inspect it for pinkness. I order my chicken in fingers. Tacky, I know. Classless even, but the great thing about chicken fingers is that a person can cut it up with their fork and see each piece of perfectly white meat.

Although, I will warn you, never, ever order chicken fingers off the kid's menu unless you've seen them first. Compressed meat is a favorite of kid's menus. Compressed meat is when the regular meat packing plant has scraped all the meat it can from the chicken bones. The bits it can't use are then scooped up, packed into patties or fingers, dipped in batter, and sold to kids everywhere. These are one of the foulest things you will ever eat. Some of them are GRAY inside. The meat is GRAY. This is not the chicken finger you want.

You want a finger that when you pull it apart, you see long strips of real chicken breast, beautifully white. The meat should tear in strips. This is real chicken breast. If it looks uniform inside, push your plate away or push out a couple of kids to eat it for you.

Another consideration of the chicken finger, over-breading. Some places feel that they have to make the chicken seem larger by dipping it in 4 pounds of beer batter. Ugh. I shouldn't need a chisel to get to the good stuff. Second, the batter shouldn't never stain the meat. If it turns your meat funny colors, just say no. Sorry Popeye's, the yellow is hard for me to look past.

Others get carried away with the pepper. Some pepper is good, just a dash of that and salt in the crunchy batter makes you go MMMM. To much and that's all you taste.

Others have the opposite problem. Blandness. The batter has no flavor at all, the chicken is tasteless, almost rubbery.

Longhorn Steakhouse has good chicken fingers most of the time. Just enough seasoning for flavor, the chicken is from the breast, and they have a hearty portion that will fill you up. Those of you on WW, they are about 3pts a finger so eat carefully, okay?

Another bonus is that Longhorns has a decent baked potato. I hate a shitty potato. But I will talk about that next week.

So the pickiest eater in the world is signing out.

Good luck and good eating and remember...don't take a finger from just anyone.