Finicky Eating

I've had the opportunity recently to spend several dinners with friends. I love getting to see everyone and chat. It's been great. It has also reminded me of something I tend to forget: I'm a rather finicky eater. Not by choice, or so I like to think, but it's a hard belief to cling to when everyone around me seems to be eating whatever's in reach and suffering no side effects.

I used to be stricter about my diet--okay, more accurately, I used to be vegetarian, but that wasn't working for me. So I added meat back into my diet. Only to realize that no matter how delicious a steak sounds, smells, and looks, the moment I put it into my mouth, I want to throw up. Pork has the opposite, but equally unpleasant reaction with my body. Then, more recently, I recognized my allergy to dairy.

All in all, it really limits things, according to other people. I tend not to notice it when I'm at home, since we typically buy only foods I'll eat. (Cody will get the occasional sausage or his own type of chips--oh, goodness, I just realized I'm picky about chips, too!--but he pretty much eats what I eat, since his dietary restrictions are basically nil.)

When people ask what I eat (because, in a lot of people's minds, if you don't eat beef, there's not much left to live off of), I describe myself as a meat eater of animals with two or fewer legs. Now I have to add, "no dairy." That means pizza with no cheese, no Alfredo sauces, no cheese-artichoke dip, no ice cream, no sour cream on my tacos or ranch dressing on my chicken sandwiches. Having just watched the way David Murdock eats, I think I should get a food processor and start adding in all kinds of juiced fruits to my diet. Wouldn't that just be great to tell people: "I eat the juice of ten fruits for dinner. Do you happen to have that many sitting around?"

I guess things could be worse.