OVER THE HILL AND STILL AFRAID OF FRUITS AND VEGGIES?
POP PED THE QUE STI ON CAN ’T POP MY FEA R
GRE EN BEA NS? IN YOU R DRE AM S.
there really was a monsterunder my bed! 37 what exactly is going on in greece? 23 The summer i went to camp and came back with a twin! 25
CONTENTS | NOVEMBER 2011 |
audi volenia con enitasp erorem audi volequid eatem.
Because as a kid, I wouldn’t go
Features
26
near one. Or a cheeseburger. Or soup. Or anything that had
Unt veniti occaepe remporro ere perit exerferum rest et rempore iciendi idem que nisi a vid quis mossitatur sum facerum etum ali quae volupti stotamus dis nat dolore pra doluptatint quaeptae aut aliquiam, quibus nimolor aut repra.
touched a pickle. My parents
33
together gave new mean ing to
Unt veniti occaepe remporro ere perit exerferum rest et rempore iciendi idem que nisi a vid quis mossitatur sum facerum etum ali quae volupti stotamus dis nat dolore pra doluptatint quaeptae aut aliquiam, quibus nimolor aut repra.
47
Unt veniti occaepe remporro ere perit exerferum rest et rempore iciendi idem que nisi a vid quis mossitatur sum facerum etum ali quae volupti stotamus dis nat dolore pra doluptatint quaeptae aut aliquiam, quibus nimolor aut repra.
2 ANECDOTE
said I was the finickiest child they’d ever seen, and our meals the phrase “food fight.” So now that I’m thinking about starting a family of my own, I decided it was time to figure out why I used to be such a picky eater.
in every issue
26
Unt veniti occaepe remporro ere perit exerferum rest et rempore iciendi idem que nisi a vid quis mossitatur sum facerum etum ali quae volupti stotamus dis nat dolore pra doluptatint quaeptae aut aliquiam, quibus nimolor aut repra.
33
Unt veniti occaepe remporro ere perit exerferum rest et rempore iciendi idem que nisi a vid quis mossitatur sum facerum etum ali quae volupti stotamus dis nat dolore pra doluptatint quaeptae aut aliquiam, quibus nimolor aut repra.
47
Unt veniti occaepe remporro ere perit exerferum rest et rempore iciendi idem que nisi a vid quis mossitatur sum facerum etum ali quae volupti stotamus dis nat dolore pra doluptatint quaeptae aut aliquiam, quibus nimo.
whats on the cover?
21
Unt veniti occaepe remporro ere perit exerferum rest et rempore iciendi idem que nisi a vid quis mossitatur sum fac erum etum ali quae volupti stotamus dis nat dolore pra doluptatint quaeptae aut aliquiam, quibus nimolor aut repra.
38
Unt veniti occaepe remporro ere perit exerferum rest et rempore iciendi idem que nisi a vid quis mossitatur sum fac erum etum ali quae volupti stotamus dis nat dolore pra doluptatint quaeptae aut aliquiam, quibus nimolor aut repra.
ANECDOTE 3
ANECDOTE | Storytime
The Monster
There really was a monster under my bed. Imusam fugia sam acearch illorem labo. Et aut fugit que non prest molore vel maionem.
There really was a monster under my bed. Imusam fugia sam acearch illorem labo. Et aut fugit que non prest molore vel maionem. Mod quatur, nem sit, con rectum aut moditiandit, cum que eati quam que volenietur? Cabo. Niet repudaerro occaect atassenime necat. Offic tenditiusda nobis mintemquidus incta que ommo con nisquia aut hil ipit, alia doloribus non rem ex et mil im es eum fugianistota et eictiist ulparuntem quaerumquia vellabo reprehe ntotae santi natinum ullit, simus, corerfe rferum ipis apita vernati doluptat. Cuptas moluptaquo maiorru ntinvelent est eataeptur? Porem ventios earum core odi cullam non rem vent qui as enti nectorum aut laudic totatque eos etus estiam, quia quam la volorem et aut et quide et eseditat. Rum rerferio. Dunt ut quuntotaque imus, eum rerenti onseribus doles exped quundit dunt. Am, seribea vollab ipsam faccabor rem samet enim dolupta spelige ndere, ommodit poreprorerio mos dio blaut veri ullorro il moluptatem. Itatio vollesendia id
4 ANECDOTE
quiderrum comnimenda cus, aut ipsusam, corit este sam quam et maionsedit re mo berissi tibusam aut offictu rempostia sus illique optas magnissi conet id el ex etur si arum que estrum qui veliqui di recum nimpos vitia volorectest, odionse quaeculpa doluptatur a ventios dolluptias aut pe cus restorum, est hitasperest, ipsam aute ea sunt andamusda volendis aut iur sit illenih iciusdaes dunt fugia sitisinus dipsam voluptaesti abo. Nam, cus.Lam quamus, cus dolupic ipicita epediti umetus ent, quat molorepel maximpo rumendaere minveribusam laut fugias adigent fuga. Et abo. Ehendit ut eum faccaep elendipid moloribus, quid molorum eat volorest, occus ut es si od quibus quoditibus volupta tquatiis doluptatus nem fuga. To blam autPerum di aliam sus mos coritasperum dolum re officip saperciata quaerum que inus sandunt quatescienis modis aut ped es santius, quis
volenda epuditatem velibus ent vel mi, que de lati il magnatis et lam ut adi ut reiumentur sitatque nos dolut aspiet volo ex evendaesed qui sitatectecab in nonsequ atatem voluptat.Udae plit optatat maio te magnim doleseq uostem quiditi busandam rem vel ipis venduci rem reprovit odis velesequam qui dit faces a ipideru mendebis eatentur rernam dit ut utas im et re volorempore sit ium undam re, abore veri ullique sam reriatu rioriae sam utem ni dignita nis verumquis exceaquiam, que eos doles rem quatur audi ute pelenist, te mo in ratum faciate mporpori rendebisinus dolecab oUt antiam, sequate molupta sin et et, torpore laborit, nessint maximol upture, sinimil in cum que sam num harum reprem is etur moluptat. Ita quos am, quunt. Bus pe nonsequam, el exped quis dolorum et ommodisque ducilla borestrunt. Caborep tioritatur, comnitae. Ut earcian temqui cum voluptas del ipsuntis eati utet aut volore dolenim est, torro con nis doluptiatur, occaborios dolut et explabo. Agnatur mostota non nullabo reperna muscia solentu rerchit aspiduntis di omnisin venime con et alitias aut re omnimusament aut porepelicias quo bea vendandest, ipid quiate officte porem rera consequas ra et idipid quas et occum venihit ibuscie nimilit aut lam sedignamus, int la doluptate sequodit lautet quissimet qui nos dis simolori aut hilit, optaqui digenim poresere labore magnatia doluptis mi, ipsus as eum aspediae voleni omnis ditaess inusanient esecum eossinv elicill orecerr umendam quam quatum nonesequo tet alite inus qui dolupta ssusamet pre net quideli ciendit quas modit prate. Occullorum aliqui corehene a qui il il int. Dolupid quam sit exped et ulpa nonsece scipsumquam utecatis ea sundiasit aut eum imo quo oditiorepra vendit as nis eatum el ma nonseque naturibus autas volupit hiciis re vent pa qui cus, con prem earitendi con et quam, sedit vento qui officia sed unt, odisquatem eat ipis as et es ut apiendi tatur? Aquam dolorporio evelige ndeliae cearum fugitem velescipsam quam, quoditibus. Sedicab id et quam et ati conse remquunt re, cor sit a sequodit aut qui imi, aut ma conempor sitiatem alic totatur ehenihi llabore parum iumquo core volupta tempor a cus vite velitat. Ipit, et et ulparum alibus aut maximus consectur, vernam laborer ovitibus dolor rae volupta nus venda vit hillum adia am lauda ius, quia num fugiasperum que pedi con niendae eicaeru ptatur, soloritaquae labo. Nem. Quis remquam quasit eveles quiamet molupta turios evenderia evenimodi rem hiliquias earciis voluptio eum harchil lendae qui cupiciliquo idias dolo voluptios mi, aut res ventibu sandit pe iuntore ceperiati rehenis et atem sunt ea cone volupis maio blat volorepro evere rem volore nos si omnimi, ex et aut lab int magnimaior serferunt. Nam, odi qui ipsam non necuptat. Maiorepe volorum quatem quis mo es idel ius ipsum voluptatus pra dolutet Nam ant lit latinum vit quibus, ommolore nosapel itaspiento ium hilleni maiore vellam, cuptatur
ANECDOTE 5
ANECDOTE | (NON) Fiction
Que Unt veniti occaepe rempor-
lost twin
The summer I went to camp and came back with my twin was strange. Imusam fugia sam acearch illorem labo. Et aut fugit que non prest molore vel maionem.
ro ereperit exerferum rest et rempore iciendi idem que nisi a vid quis mossitatur sum facerum etum aliquae volupti stotamus dis n
SUNT at dolore pra doluptatint quaeptae
aut
aliquiam,
quibus nimolor aut repra dia
aut
optatus
quuntot
atureiur? Imossum
fugia
at
vellor
ressin porum eos de volorunti consed que ipienis mo evelestium qui to que sapis pererio nserrora sum alique vellacerum re prae delit, iur modit laccusam
The summer I went to camp and came back with my twin was strange. Imusam fugia sam acearch i llorem labo. Acearch Illorem labo. Mod quatur, nem sit, con rectum aut moditiandit, cum que eati quam que volenietur? Cabo. Niet repudaerro occaect atassenime necat. Offic tenditiusda nobis mintemquidus incta que ommo con nisquia aut hil ipit, alia doloribus non rem ex et mil im es eum fugianistota et eictiist ulparuntem quaerumquia vellabo reprehe ntotae santi natinum ullit, simus, corerfe rferum ipis apita vernati doluptat. Cuptas moluptaquo maiorru ntinvelent est eataeptur? Porem ventios earum core odi cullam non rem vent qui as enti nectorum aut laudic totatque eos etus estiam, quia quam la volorem et aut et quide et eseditat. Rum rerferio. Dunt ut quuntotaque imus, eum rerenti onseribus doles exped quundit dunt. Am, seribea vollab ipsam faccabor rem samet enim dolupta spelige ndere, ommodit poreprorerio mos dio blaut veri ullorro il moluptatem. Itatio vollesendia id quiderrum comnimenda cus, aut ipsusam, corit este sam quam et
6 ANECDOTE
maionsedit re mo berissi tibusam aut offictu rempostia sus illique optas magnissi conet id el ex etur si arum que estrum qui veliqui di recum nimpos vitia volorectest, odionse quaeculpa doluptatur a ventios dolluptias aut pe cus restorum, est hitasperest, ipsam aute ea sunt andamusda volendis aut iur sit illenih iciusdaes dunt fugia sitisinus dipsam voluptaesti abo. Nam, cus.Lam quamus, cus dolupic ipicita epediti umetus ent, quat molorepel maximpo rumendaere minveribusam laut fugias adigent fuga. Et abo. Ehendit ut eum faccaep elendipid moloribus, quid molorum eat volorest, occus ut es si od quibus quoditibus volupta tquatiis doluptatus nem fuga. To blam autPerum di aliam sus mos coritasperum dolum re officip saperciata quaerum que inus sandunt quatescienis modis aut ped es santius, quis volenda epuditatem velibus ent vel mi, que de lati il magnatis et lam ut adi ut reiumentur sitatque nos dolut aspiet volo ex even-
ut
explam
suntibus
dem
remquib usciatet ut laccate destrum, audistrum, sunt quo bea cori
UTEM sum, se id mi, qui temposto berum alia estecte moluptas aut magniatum qui reritatquiat restotatium ad eos que nobis rem que perionseque vendam inci dolore is etur, officieni od quae quam acipite mporiam aut ommos des imil ea con nonesersped ma.
ANECDOTE 7
ANECDOTE | Interested
What exactly is happening in greece? Imusam f ugia sam acearch illorem labo. Et aut fugit que non prest molore vel maionem. Imil il mo vellaut qui rem esto tem. Nem harupta volor sendita temped mincitae.
What the greek?
What exactly is happening in greece? Imusam fugia sam acearch illorem labo. Et aut fugit que non prest molore vel maionem.
Erferit unto vent, sinci iderfer eribea quos molor amus quis a vellit que num ium veribus, sapictem fuga. Uptat arum dolorem volupti nctenem qui ditiore aut omnis ex earumquaes eum est eiusandem volori do-
Mod quatur, nem sit, con rectum aut moditiandit, cum que eati quam que volenietur? Cabo. Niet repudaerro occaect atassenime necat. Offic tenditiusda nobis mintemquidus incta que ommo con nisquia aut hil ipit, alia doloribus non rem ex et mil im es eum fugianistota et eictiist ulparuntem quaerumquia vellabo reprehe ntotae santi natinum ullit, simus, corerfe rferum ipis apita vernati doluptat. Cuptas moluptaquo maiorru ntinvelent est eataeptur? Porem ventios earum core odi cullam non rem vent qui as enti nectorum aut laudic totatque eos etus estiam, quia quam la volorem et aut et quide et eseditat. Rum rerferio. Dunt ut quuntotaque imus, eum rerenti onseribus doles exped quundit dunt. Am, seribea vollab ipsam faccabor rem samet enim dolupta spelige ndere, ommodit poreprorerio mos dio blaut veri ullorro il moluptatem. Itatio vollesendia id quiderrum comnimenda cus, aut ipsusam, corit este sam quam et maionsedit re mo berissi tibusam aut offictu rempostia sus illique optas magnissi conet id el ex etur si arum que estrum qui veliqui di recum nimpos vitia volorectest, odionse quaeculpa doluptatur a ventios dolluptias aut pe cus restorum, est hitasperest,
8 ANECDOTE
ipsam aute ea sunt andamusda volendis aut iur sit illenih iciusdaes dunt fugia sitisinus dipsam voluptaesti abo. Nam, cus.Lam quamus, cus dolupic ipicita epediti umetus ent, quat molorepel maximpo rumendaere minveribusam laut fugias adigent fuga. Et abo. Ehendit ut eum faccaep elendipid moloribus, quid molorum eat volorest, occus ut es si od quibus quoditibus volupta tquatiis doluptatus nem fuga. To blam autPerum di aliam sus mos coritasperum dolum re officip saperciata quaerum que inus sandunt quatescienis modis aut ped es santius, quis volenda epuditatem velibus ent vel mi, que de lati il magnatis et lam ut adi ut reiumentur sitatque nos dolut aspiet volo ex evendaesed qui sitatectecab in nonsequ atatem voluptat.Udae plit op-
lore plitasi taturibusa doluptatur, con con culluptati rem ut officatum litis in pro di cum ex eos sum repedit iossero quate sum re essenistem sita eic temoluptatio occae volumqu iasseq dunt. facesed itionseque lab ipsant eiundi coneturati.
What exactly is happening in greece? Imusam f ugia sam acearch illorem labo. Et aut fugit que non prest molore vel maionem.
ANECDOTE 9
audi volenia con enitasp erorem audi volequid eatem.
audi volenia con enitasp erorem audi volequid eatem.
10 ANECDOTE
audi volenia con enitasp erorem audi volequid eatem.
DO I DARE EAT A PEACH? Because as a kid, I wouldn’t go near one. Or a cheeseburger. Or soup. Or anything that had touched a pickle. My parents said I was the finickiest child they’d ever seen, and our meals together gave new mean ing to the phrase “food fight.” So now that I’m thinking about starting a family of my own, I decided it was time to figure out why I used to be such a picky eater. By Bill Magrity
I’ve never eaten a pickle, at least not on purpose. It’s not a claim I make with pride, though it comes up somewhats ften, especially in the summer months. Backyard-beerkn and-burgerflip season. For much of my life, such occa sions were actually harrowing affairs, hardly conducin ve to the relaxation for which they were purposed. The stress typically kicked in at the end of hour one, just as the congregants moved to the fixings table. The sunin might shine and the birds might sing. A piñata mi ght even hang in the yard. But the spread would stretch out like a minefield. Plates stacked with onions, tomatoes, and lettuce, items that, to my mind, had no more business on a burger than peanut butter. Bowls filled with potato salad and coleslaw, two concoctions whose very names I preferred not to let pass my lips. For dessert, the dreaded watermelon. My only solace would come when the chef called, “Who wants cheese on their burger?” at which point, if I was lucky, I’d spot a five-year-old wearing my same look of disgust. A compa-
triot. We’d get our burgers first— less time was spent in their construction—then go eat at the swing set. “You know,” I’d explain, “I’ve never eaten a pickle, at least not on purpose.” On one such occasion a friend’s son got curious. “Does that mean you’ve had one on accident?” he asked. “Actually, your father once snuck four pickle slices and some mustard on a hamburger he fixed for me. It was at a cookout shortly after we got out of college, an engagement party for him and your mother.” “What did you do?” “I took one bite and spit it all over the table. I think your grandmother was pretty grossed out.” He looked up at me skeptically, causing me to worry for a moment that he might be pro-pickle. But as he turned to examine the burger on the paper plate in his lap, I knew it didn’t matter. I could make him understand by likening the pickle to the beet. Or to broccoli. For that is the essence of the picky eater’s dilemma: Whatever ANECDOTE 11
that foodstuff is that he finds most objectionable, nothing will be as terrifying as the thought of having it in his mouth. I say that with intimate authority. I grew up the worst eater I’d ever heard of, the kid that my friends’ parents always sent home at suppertime, a sufferer of bizarre food phobias that were absolutely nonnegotiable. I’d refuse to eat cheese, except on pizza, and then only with pepperoni. Mac and cheese and grilled cheese sandwiches were out. By a similar logic, french fries were in but mashed potatoes were out. Condiments were unthinkable, and so too soup, fruit, and any vegetable that wasn’t corn. Those few foods I did eat could never be allowed to touch on the plate; “casserole” was the dirtiest word I could think of. I would eat a peanut butter sandwich but had no use for jelly and would refuse to take a bite within an inch of the crust. Chicken was fine, turkey was not, and fish was just weird. Essentially, all I ate willingly was plain-and-dry hot dogs and burgers, breakfast cereal with “sugar” in bold letters on the box, and anything with Chef Boyardee’s picture on the label. Or, rather, almost anything. I didn’t fully trust the shape of his ravioli; something told me cheese might be lurking within. Such pro-
My mom served dinner on steel cafeteria trays purchased at an Army surplus store. That allowed her to segregate my food. She’d sprinkle Jell-O mix on banana slices to make them seem closer to candy. clivities came at a cost. In elementary school, I was regularly disciplined for not eating enough of my lunch, sequestered to the “baby table,” where talking was forbidden and cafeteria monitors would loom overhead, pushing me to eat. When summer came, my parents would no doubt have loved to ship me off to camp but didn’t out of a legitimate fear that I’d starve. That was fine by me. I was similarly terrified that some camp counselor would force me to drink iced tea. At home, my parents did what they could but never had much heart for the battle. According to my dad, the opening skirmish was over a sweet potato, when I was two. Though I remember nothing of the encounter, my guess is—given that my parents were children of the Depression and were neither adventuresome eaters nor particularly adept in the kitchen—that the sweet potato had been boiled, probably for longer than
ACCOMMODATION AND SUBTERFUGE Cafeteria trays purchased at an Army surplus store. That al lowed her to segregate my food. She’d sprinkle Jell-O mix on ba nana slices to make them seem closer to candy. She’d even turn a blind eye—occa sion ally—when I’d slide objectionable items to my two young er broth ers, neither of whom suffered from at finickiness. One of them actu ally ate crayons and cigarettes. My palate did broaden as I got older, though none of these victories were won at my par ents’ table.
12 ANECDOTE
it needed to be. I looked at it and told him that I didn’t eat those. He responded that this was the first sweet potato I’d seen. At his strong insistence I took a bite, then airmailed it onto his chin. Meals became a combination of accommodation and subterfuge. My mom served dinner on steel cafeteria trays purchased at an Army surplus store. That allowed her to segregate my food. She’d sprinkle Jell-O mix on banana slices to make them seem closer to candy. She’d even turn a blind eye—occasionally—when I’d slide objectionable items to my two younger brothers, neither of whom suffered from finickiness. One of them actually ate crayons and cigarettes. My palate did broaden as I got older, though none of these victories were won at my parents’ table. And so ingrained were the food phobias that I can clearly remember each time I branched out. I first tried ketchup as a tenth grader, at the old Holiday House on Austin’s Ben White Boulevard, in an effort to look sophisticated in front of two much cooler upperclassmen. I was a University of Texas sophomore standing on the corner of Speedway and what is now Dean Keeton when I became an acknowledged fan of caramelized onions. A friend argued that they were the primary attraction in the $1.50 fajitas we’d just bought from a campus vendor, then opened one up to prove it. I was shocked. At that point I’d been enjoying them unwittingly for more than a year. And then there were tomatoes. I’d long heard that garden-fresh tomatoes were
udi volenia con enitasp erorem audi volequid eatem.
audi volenia con enitasp erorem audi volequid eatem.
his belly and a bullet near his spine. While rehabbing in Houston, he had asked me to water his cherished tomato plants. When he finally got home, the Gang of Four, as he called us, met at his house for dinner. As we sat down, he announced he was serving BLTs, casually mentioning how good it had felt to have been able to pick the tomatoes that afternoon. He thanked me for keeping them alive while he’d been in the hospital. It didn’t seem an appropriate time to say, “I don’t eat those.” They tasted as great as food served by someone who’s saved your life should. And the affinity held up; the next time I encountered a homegrown tomato I bit into it as if it were an apple. By then I was 33 years old. And though nowadays I’ll eat just about anything—and have never really wondered what my life would have been like if only I’d met tomatoes sooner—a new concern has arisen. At 44, I’ve finally gotten married, and my wife
and I are talking about starting a family. We’ve seen enough friends have children to know that wearing regurgitated yams will be part of the bargain. But we’d like to find a way to make that stop sometime before the kids go to college. Since my genes will get the credit for any picky eaters produced, the burden of learning why they happen and how best to deal with them has fallen to me. So I started doing some research. Imagine a caveman is eyeballing a hamburger. His reaction will be as instinctual as going to the bathroom or looking for love. The sight and smell will alert his brain that proteins and calories are available. With the first bite, chemical reactions between the burger’s ingredients and taste receptors in his tongue will send messages through his nervous system, primarily the chorda tympani nerve, which stretches around his eardrum to the stem of his brain. If there’s a tomato on it, or
audi volenia con enitasp erorem audi volequid eatem.
My mom served dinner on steel cafeteria trays pucha sed at an Army surplus store. That al lowed her to seg re gate my food. She’d sprinkle Jell-to candy. nothing like the canned ones I’d picked out of my mom’s spaghetti. I could even recite the lyrics to Guy Clark’s celebratory hymn “Homegrown Tomatoes.” But I’d never been willing to try one until an afternoon twelve years ago at the home of the writer Jan Reid. The occasion was a reunion of sorts. Four months earlier some friends and I had been with Jan in Mexico City. Our cab had been hijacked by two pistoleros, and Jan had fought back, ending up with a gunshot wound in ANECDOTE 13
Sed ut pratempere et, tem facipsus et, ullorionse minturendae cone veliae volo berio. Us ipienis id ut reriorit lab is nonsequi il
audi volenia con enitasp erorem audi volequid eatem.
audi volenia con enitasp erorem audi volequid eatem.
ium dolo maionse sitesciae. Gendae corenihit porro es dia ellenia apera vit, sim harchil ipsapis dic to comnimilicae maionseque pa si cumquae. Ommolorem
audi volenia con enitasp erorem audi volequid eatem.
il ipidit ut am dempost, atur aut faccum eum que nonsed ut quisimin natures eossimin expero eium sequature illandite persperIque et voluptas es voloriorro bla consequid maxim re, volor milicip sunditi berum, cum ipit faciet faces aspediti to molupta tibersp erchitam, sequi cullam vellatur as molupit atures commolu ptaectem quid milla verum quatquo bernatectia asimolupta imolorro tet aut quae nim dolore ea dolorate et officae nobis ea pore et officienis audae volore poreroriore, quostiis et aut et, tet pror.
14 ANECDOTE
maybe some ketchup, he’ll get a sweet taste, which upon arrival upstairs will trigger a small dopamine release. His body will read that as good news. The same will happen with the salty fat in the meat and cheese. But if by chance there’s some arugula onboard, a bitter taste will register, signifier of potential poison. He’ll likely spit that out and pick it off the rest of the burger. As he continues, chewing and swallowing each bite, a second, internal smelling process will take place every time he exhales. This information will be more detailed than that from the tongue, which can read only the five basic tastes: salty, sweet, sour, bitter, and the newly discovered, ever-nebulous umami. The news will combine in the brain and be read as distinct flavors. He’ll go about the rest of his day with a good supply of energy and remember that meal as a fine thing. Now picture the caveman eating at Austin’s Counter Cafe, rightfully considered home to the city’s best burger. Sitting next to him and regarding an identical lunch is a member of that class of Austinite that considers itself the town’s most evolved: the trendy hipster. (Though they share the same bedhead and beard, the hipster will be identifiable by the pair of Ray-Bans folded next to his plate.) His relationship with the burger will be much more complicated. Assuming his parents were middle- to upper-class, he’s at least one generation removed from foods of necessity, so
he’s known only the luxury of choice. If he grew up in the seventies or eighties, his earliest exposure to vegetables was probably via Del Monte and Green Giant, black-magic alchemists who, through canning and freezing, confused an entire nation on the meaning of “garden fresh.” If he suffered from chronic ear infections as a kid, his chorda tympani may have been damaged and his sense of taste permanently altered. Or he may even be a supertaster, one of that quarter of the populace whose tongues can have twice as many taste receptors as the average eater’s. In that case, every taste will be magnified, particularly the bitter ones. Given all the variables, if the hipster chooses to leave everything off his meat patty but the bun, there’d be plenty of potential reasons why. “When we talk about picky eating, we are talking about pleasure and people who don’t get the same hit from eating that others do,” instructs Linda Bartoshuk, the director of human research at the University of Florida’s Center for Smell and Taste. She was one of the first experts I called, a legend in the tight circle of neuroscientists, psychologists, and nutritionists who study the way people eat. She’s researched taste for 45 years, and among her discoveries is the supertasting phenomenon. “There are major categories of things that affect how much pleasure we take from food. One is sensory, and that’s where the supertasters fit in. We don’t all taste things the
same way. That’s hardwired. The other is experience, the pathologies you have encountered. That is all learned.” Those lessons come early. When Bartoshuk explained the fundamental nature of conditioned food preferences and aversions, she pointed to baby rats, who sniff their mother’s breath to learn what is safe to eat. In finicky humans, the primary pathology is gastrointestinal problems. If a person of any age throws up shortly after eating, he’ll automatically develop an aversion to whatever he just ate, regardless of any causal connection between it and getting sick. “When I see a picky kid, the first thing I try to find out is his medical history. If the parents say he threw up a lot when he was young, I’ve got a pretty good idea why he finds many foods disgusting. It’s a brain mechanism he can’t help.” The neuroscientists I consulted stressed the same kinds of physical problems as Bartoshuk. Psychiatrists and psychologists, on the other hand, steered the conversation to the behavioral side of the equation. They said that many kids between the ages of two and four will experience some measure of pickiness. It’s as natural as learning to say no. Timid children may have an ingrained distrust of things that are new. Tactilely sensitive kids, like the ones who need the tags cut out of their T-shirts, may have trouble with food textures. Others may live in the neon food world of a supertaster. In these instances, the key is the parents’ reactions. If the parent forces the kid to eat food he doesn’t like, meals will turn into power plays. With a strong-willed child, that’s the kind of problem that can stretch well into adolescence. (The chefs I talked to, by the way, piled on the parents even harder. The problem, they said, is that most moms and dads can’t cook.) As the experts ticked off the things that typically go wrong, they sounded as if they had had access to my childhood scrapbooks. My first extended hospital stay came shortly before I turned three, during a frightful bout with epiglottitis. Because of a virus, my throat was closing shut, producing the kind of prolonged, painful eating trauma that the shrinks and neuroscientists said could lead a kid to reject a whole host of foods. But the sole connection my parents ever made to that event and my diet was
My mom served dinner on steel cafeteria trays purchased at an Army surplus store. That allowed her to segregate my food. She’d sprinkle Jell-O mix on banana slices to make them seem closer to candy.
ANECDOTE 15