From the category archives:

food

Picky, Picky

by Sarah Morgan on August 14, 2010

Picky eaters: are they that way due to choice, or due to biology? Now scientists are wondering if it’s the latter. And good for the scientists, and all – let’s question everything – but I have to say, my thoughts tend somewhere toward “oh, please“.

You know I tend to be skeptical about our society’s rush to excuse problems by medicalizing them into “conditions” (see also my thoughts on Tiger Woods). As far as I’m concerned, this is one more example.

Now, you must understand, I was a very picky eater growing up. I wouldn’t even pour milk on my cereal or tomato sauce on my spaghetti until I was in college. The idea of mushy cereal revolted me, and the taste of any kind of spaghetti sauce was much too unpleasantly strong. So I get the argument that some people are extra-sensitive to smells, tastes or textures, truly I do.

But come on. Why is it that I’ve never, ever heard of a picky eater who will only eat crunchy raw vegetables, or one who threatens to vomit if they even think about eating sweets? And yet there’s an awful lot of people who will only eat white processed carbs and swear they’d throw up if they even nibbled a vegetable.

If it were purely biology, it stands to reason that there would be just as many picky eaters who hated unhealthy and processed food as hate healthy, natural food.

Here’s what I think.

Kids have more taste buds and therefore more sensitive palates. (That’s biology.) Plus, kids are brought up by popular culture to think that junk food is cool. (That’s letting your kid watch too many commercials.)

Which means you get two very powerful reasons to become a picky child.

However. If you add to that parents who cater to their children’s every whim, plus a person who never grows up enough to challenge their preconceptions, you get a picky adult.

There are definitely people who are just born to be more squeamish. I think fried calimari feels like rubber bands in my mouth, and I haven’t eaten a banana since I was old enough to hold one, and I’m sure there are people who find that bizarre. But I love alligator and ostrich, Japanese and Ethiopian and Thai, stinky cheese, and trying at least a few bites of whatever I don’t recognize on the menu.

Everyone has preferences. But that’s different than just being a chicken.

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Cookies!

by Sarah Morgan on June 22, 2010

Yet another of my ventures is the cookie business that the fabulous Kerrin and I have created.

Two Smart Cookies have been baking for about three years (through apartments and condos and houses and bedrest and twin toddlers) and it’s as much fun as ever. We’ve done weddings, showers, birthdays, long-distance surprises, thank-you gifts, teacher gifts, housewarmings, barbecues, holidays – anything you can think of where a cookie would be appropriate.

And really, is a cookie ever NOT appropriate?

Bikinis to baby carriages, Lightning McQueen to Yo Gabba Gabba – we’ve done it all.

So check out pictures of some of our projects at http://twosmartcookies.shutterfly.com (yes, they taste as good as they look) and when you need a sweet treat for people you love, you just let me know.

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Weekly Roundup: Little Known Facts About Sarah*

by Sarah Morgan on September 7, 2008

* Me, not Sarah Palin .

And by “little known” I mean that I didn’t know any of them till this weekend either.

  • I make a mean casserole.
  • I can grow tomatoes.
  • I can do a Crossfit workout.
  • In addition to my odd inability to keep Al Pacino and Robert De Niro straight, I literally can’t tell the difference between Jeremy Davies and Henry Thomas .
  • I am found attractive by transvestites. (Or at least one.)

An enlightening weekend, all told. Stay tuned for this week’s learnings, which may include:

  • What is wrong with my car?
  • How do I prepare to participate on a panel?
  • Is Colin a figment of my imagination?
  • Will I get my next belt?

The suspense is palpable.

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20/20 Hindsight

by Sarah Morgan on July 15, 2008

If you’ve ever not liked the way you looked, I think this post – a wonderfully well-written piece on looking back at an old photo – will hit home. I know I’ve had this moment myself. You probably have too.

Moreover, it says something about how wrenchingly hard it is to be an adolescent. I had a lot of great times growing up, but God, I wouldn’t do it again if you paid me.

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