If You’re a Picky Eater, Don’t Be Embarrassed

The world is full of adventurous eaters who are willing to try anything at least once, always ready for something new. Their palates are prepared for paella, pakora, or pâté. And then there are people like me who chose their favorite foods at the age of 10 and the list has remained the same for decades. Most of us who have a limited range of food we eat spend a lot of time apologizing for it or pretending we like something when we don’t. We are experts at sliding food around on a plate to make it look like we ate more than we did. This is a skill I perfected in the second grade and used as recently as three months ago at a dinner party when the host had the gall to serve eggplant. But I’m tired of harboring shame about my taste buds. My name is Darron and I am an adult picky eater. 

I never meant to be this way, and I’m definitely better than I was 20 years ago when the closest I ever got to anything resembling a salad was when walking through a farmers market. I grew up in the ’70s and ’80s when processed food was making headway in the grocery store and Hamburger Helper was my favorite meal. My mom made her own version of noodles, meat, and cheese once that I deemed “noo-me-cheese” and it became a staple for our dinner table. It was literally elbow noodles, ground beef, and a block of cheddar with some tomato sauce. She may have added salt and pepper to it, but god help her if she added parsley, because I didn’t eat green foods. 

Up until junior high, I only ordered my hamburgers with meat and mayonnaise, and eventually I added American cheese to the mix. You know those little bitty diced onions on a McDonald’s cheeseburger? If one appeared in my Happy Meal, it would no longer be a happy meal for any of us. On a recent visit with my mom, I was telling her about a recipe for ground turkey chili with white beans and poblano peppers that I make and she wanted to know if she could leave out the peppers and use ground beef and pinto beans instead. She told me she had never had ground turkey before. 

“I already have enough foods I like,” she said. “I don’t need to try anything new.” That was a moment of realization for me. 

Unlike my mom, I am willing to try new things. I tasted fish roe a couple of years ago and a few months later I tasted caviar. I thought they were the same thing, but apparently caviar is roe, but roe isn’t caviar? Fish eggs are complicated. And speaking of eggs, I like them scrambled, but not fried, poached, or boiled. And a deviled egg can go right to hell where it belongs. 

The point is, I’m trying and I’m getting better. Five years ago I ate a scallop for the first time and absolutely loved it. The second time was two months ago and I still liked it. Did it leap to the top of my list of favorite foods? No, it didn’t, but at least if it shows up on a plate at a dinner party I know I can eat it and won’t have to wrap some of it into a napkin and toss it into the garbage. I’ll at least try a bite of everything as long as it’s not one of those living octopus salads that fight back as you take a bite. If you serve that to me, I will release it into the wild and go find me some noo-me-cheese. 

There are plenty of others out there who deal with the stigma of being a picky eater I want you to know are not alone. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad for knowing what you like to eat. Just tell people your taste buds are “highly selective.” We may be the source of frustration for a dinner party host, but we’re pretty easy. As long as there’s bread and cheese on the table, that’s all we need, so don’t be embarrassed by it. Wave that No Freaky Food for Me flag high.