Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Equal Parts Adventure and Inspiration: How I learned to appreciate what I thought I hated most

Because I am in a food and wine writing class this semester, I thought I'd just go ahead and post what I write for the class on here. This is for our personal essay assignment.

Confession: I am a foodie who despises seafood. You may begin the crucifixion.

Really, it’s not my fault. I blame my parents. The extent of my seafood exposure as a child was limited to Van de Kamp’s fish sticks, and I don’t even think that counts as fish at all. It’s a shame, honestly, because I’m jealous of those who can savor salmon. I’m envious of those who delight in oysters on the half shell. I get green-eyed over those who close their eyes as they bite into a perfectly cooked tuna steak. Because when I eat any of it, my gag reflexes set in and I reach for a napkin. It’s not a pretty picture.

Taste buds are a strange thing. I remember hating tomatoes as a child. I would watch my father bring in homegrown Missouri tomatoes—the best there is—slice them up, salt and pepper them and serve them as a side with dinner. Mostly, I was confused. Why would he offer us a slice of tomato as a side to my chicken? It made no sense until I grew up and found myself doing the same thing.

I wasn’t ever a picky child. I ate my vegetables religiously and never spit anything out. There’s a relatively short list of things I wouldn’t eat: olives, mushrooms, sometimes milk. Of course, today I love all of these. I drink whole milk and wish it were more socially acceptable to just go ahead and drink heavy cream instead. I love the earthy taste of mushrooms—the subtle way they seem to perfectly round out the flavors of almost any dish. And briny, salty, glorious olives? Let’s just say I’m grateful my taste buds decided to cooperate with me before my first travels abroad.

This past summer was the first time I traveled outside of the country. My best friend and I departed on our three-week European adventure ready to conquer the world (all right, maybe not the world, but I was certainly going to conquer any food I encountered). I couldn’t wait to get my mouth around delicious pasta in Italy, gyros and Greek yogurt in Greece and croques-monsieurs from France. What I hadn’t really taken into consideration was this: our adventure consisted of a cruise around the Mediterranean. As in, ship in the sea stopping in ports on the coasts. What did this mean? It meant seafood. A ridiculous amount of seafood.

I hoped I could wrangle my taste buds into loving seafood much in the same way I had for mushrooms or olives. What I found to work, instead, was a strong shot of adventure and inspiration. While in Cannes, a bright, lively town on the French Riviera, I tried steamed mussels for the first time. I probably would not have tried them, but I was feeling bold and daring after stumbling upon the most beautiful outdoor market I’d ever seen just hours earlier. The market was unbelievably colorful and beautiful; it was alive in a way that no market here is. I came away feeling cultured and well, European. So when the mussels were presented to me, I didn’t hesitate. Were they the best thing I’ve ever tasted? Of course not! But it didn’t matter, because I was sitting in a cafĂ© in the French Riviera opening myself up to a new opportunity.

I spent the rest of the trip trying anything new I could, especially seafood. I tasted grilled octopus and sardines in Santorini, squid in Athens and scallops in Venice. It was liberating to try so many things I’d never tasted before—dishes I would have scrunched my nose at and been terribly dramatic about back at home. In Europe though, I was free to try any of it because I didn’t want to look back on my trip and wonder why I stayed so boring, so safe during such an amazing experience.

Now that I am back at home, I don’t eat seafood. Why would I? I still don’t particularly enjoy it, even though I’m hoping I can learn to love it one day. But that spirit of adventure I picked up along the coasts of the Mediterranean still lives within me. I don’t say no when given the choice to try something new, because you never know—it might just be the best thing I’ve ever had.




Grand Canal in Venice


Taken in Cannes, from a hill with a quaint little church on it



The most delicious Greek yogurt I've ever eaten



Grilled sardines in Santorini