Finicky Food

Do you ever have that one thing that you crave all of a sudden that refuses to be ignored until you’ve eaten it? Or until you’ve eaten it three or four times? Every so often I want to eat a specific thing so bad that it’s all I want until my craving is satisfied. And then, depending on how in control I was, sometimes I don’t want to eat whatever it was for months.

A few weeks ago I was craving the specific burrito I get at Pancheros, and I restrained the craving for a week before I gave in and had the burrito. And then I had another one three days later. And then I had to convince myself that I did not need to go and get a burrito for breakfast the next day, and was successful. (Possibly because they weren’t open, or possibly because of will power. You’ll never know.) But then I had one for lunch the following Monday because I had spent the entire weekend not eating this burrito. But that last one did it, and I haven’t craved it since. Although it does still sound good for sometime in the future.

But before that it was my sandwich at a local shop. I thought about that sandwich every day for three days, and finally went and got it. And then I proceeded to eat the sandwich almost every other day for a week. And then finally I couldn’t stand it. I made it halfway through the Last Sandwich, and had to stop because I was disgusted by it. And I haven’t been able to enjoy a sandwich from that place since then. That was at least a year ago.

The same thing happened to me with peanut butter cookies. My great aunt, Helen, and I used to make them all the time. It was our thing for a while. I always made the little criss-cross marks on top with the fork. But one day we made the cookies and I took one bite and couldn’t go on. I haven’t liked peanut butter cookies since. And that was a decade ago at least. And this dislike of peanut butter cookies has translated itself to all other things peanut butter flavored. (Besides actual peanuts and peanut butter used only as a spread and never mixed into anything ever at all.)

Is this just me? Am I the only one to permanently ruin delicious things for myself? Or do I just have really food-resilient friends and family?

It should be said that I don’t crave things very often at all. This makes meal planning difficult, but isn’t an issue in general. It’s like my body doesn’t crave anything for a long time, but saves it all up and then uses it all on one specific thing every so often. I also have the ability to completely divorce something from the food-recognition receptors in my brain. (Are those a thing?) I will see a peanut butter cookie and as soon as I know what it is I stop registering it as food. My brain literally overlooks it as an option. The same thing happens to me with most seafood and a large majority of types of beans. I don’t even see them as food, which is silly, but it’s always been that way. This used to be the case for a lot of other foods as well, but I have forced myself to try more things and have overcome a lot of it.

The entire reason I bring this up is because I have a bag of veggie chips (sweets mix – beets and sweet potatoes, etc) sitting in my desk drawer, and have just come to the realizationĀ that I’m not going to eat them. I love veggie chips, and I’ve not specifically ever craved them, but I took them out of my lunchbox and put them in the drawer because I didn’t feel like eating them just then. And I know now that I’m not going to do it. At least not any time soon. They have ceased to be food to me. This is a constant, although not particularly important, struggle in my day-to-day life.

To anyone who made it to the end of this mostly useless post, I hope you have a really awesome day and find a dollar on the ground. Have you ever experienced anything like this? Or is it just me?

~Tristin

PS: My Health and Sexuality Educator brain occasionally has the emotional maturity of a 14 year old, and refuses to not see this whole post as potentially one giant “that’s what she said.” Please forgive her. She has to be constantly on her toes so she doesn’t say something in a class that could be made into this type of joke by her very mature 9th graders. (The third person speak was weird. I’ll try not to do it again.)

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