January 3, 2013 in Uncategorized
I went away over Christmas with the new guy to see his family in the north of England. I hate visiting for too long when I don’t know people, it sets my whole digestive system out of order. Visiting South America, South Africa, South East Asia (are we seeing a SOUTH trend here?) is generally not an issue. Warm countries tend to huge amounts of fresh vegetables and produce. Visiting in the northern hemisphere is not that simple.
The boyfriend told his mother I was a ‘difficult eater’, which really I am not. I will eat anything that has legs or, for that matter, that never had legs. Except maybe goggas that should not have been there. I will even eat things I am not particularly partial to without too much fuss like tongue, brussel sprouts and celery. I don’t particularly like my desserts from buffet offerings touching in my bowl and will rather eat less variety to prevent the this but generally noone notices. (Hence my deep suspicion of trifle, a mix up of leftover desserts.)
However, when we were visiting I sort of understood why he told her this. It was one of those families that frustratingly for me dishes up a plate for you. I hate this because I am a grazer. I enjoy small portions in many helpings. I find large plates of food I feel compelled to finish intimidating. I also tend, if left to my own devices, to try to eat more than my fair portion of the vegetables over, say, the potatoes. So the plates they were dishing up for me were way too gravy laden, meat loaded and carb infested while the vegetables, which were limper than I like, were lacking.
They made two small containers of ‘salad’ after he told her how much I liked it (I don’t really, I prefer lightly cooked veg but I will take salad over no or dead veg) for the boxing day buffet. When everyone’s backs were turned I gobbled them both up, along with a number of satsuma naartjie things. (And, if I’m honest, a quantity of chocolate things left unguarded.)
Nevertheless I was not particularly happy. I still felt like my body thought it was storing food for the great famine as everything just wasn’tmoving.(Too much information?)
But at least I did not complain or make a fuss. I even ate all my brussel sprouts.
Which is more than I can say for some people. I know someone who went holidaying with a friend and her parents. In front of the parents when offered Austrian salami, she proceeded to take it apart meticulously to separate the little white fat globules from the processed ‘meat’ part. And anyone who knows salami knows this is like separating sand granules. She is only lucky the parents were amused and not insulted by the lengthly eating process involved.
ps It has literally taken me months to figure out how to get back to this blog, which is why I posted on libraschild at letterdash only to discover I’ve locked myself out that one by forgetting the password, how I miss the old days.