July 21, 2010
The Picky Eater
Serbian burek
I was a very picky eater when I was a little girl. I gave my poor parents, and our extended family, no end of trouble with my unwillingness to try new (or even everyday) foods.
I didn’t like tomatoes. I wouldn’t touch cheese. The taste of milk made me sick. I hated meat.
The list was long. I didn’t like certain textures or colors, or aromas.
I was not an easy child.
But somewhere along the way, I became an adventurous eater. Maybe it was when our family moved to different countries and I was exposed to new cuisines. Maybe as I grew, my mind expended and my courage developed, and I realized that I was missing a lot of really delicious flavors.
Now, at fifty years of age, I am willing to taste anything that looks edible.
Now, when I eat, I travel to mysterious places. Alaskan crab legs take me to the bottomless seas in their delicate saltiness. Indian food paints intense colors on my taste buds. Middle Eastern flavors bring to mind shady olive groves. Sushi sweeps me up to the Sea of Japan.
And Serbian foods, what journeys do they take me on?
Roasted peppers seasoned with minced garlic, olive oil and vinegar? Refreshing tomatoes, onion and cucumber salad with crumbs of feta cheese on top? Burek – delicate phyllo dough pastry filled with cheese or apples?
They take me to a sweet, safe, loving place where I am given the time and the patience needed to grow and mature.
Gracious Living - Day by Day 