Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cooking, life on October 23, 2007|
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I know about the fires in California, and the plight of the Burmese monks, but even so, my mind is on this particular issue. Probably because I can be a little “me-centric”, and it affects me directly.
When I’m deciding what to make for dinner, I’m like the rest of the world (oops, that just demonstrated my insensitivity. The rest of the world that is lucky enough to have food options) in that I make the same 10 or 20 things in rotation. Sometimes I change the order, sometimes even I get tired of the usuals, tired of cooking them, never mind eating them, but what I’m saying is that even though I have a binder chock full of enticing recipes, and even though I routinely borrow cookbooks from the library, going so far as to photocopy whole pages from them, I quite rarely actually experiment with anything new.
It’s because it’s a gamble. It even feels like a huge gamble in my tiny little world. What if I make some new thing and they don’t like it. Then I’ve spent up to an hour of my precious time, plus I have to make some other thing as well. It’s happened a few times in the past, and, combined with the disdain on their faces, it’s all I can do not to take it personally.
I’ve read that it can take up to 13 encounters with a new food before a kid will accept it. How they came up with that exact number is a mystery, and more to the point, who has that kind of patience?
I still make new recipes, but only on days when I’ve had enough sleep.
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