Burger Betrayal How a Chip, a Friend, and a Treehouse Defined My Food Identity
Recently, my husband asked me if I had a treehouse growing up. Immediately, I was flooded with memories of childhood backyard nostalgia, spending hours in the tree house that my father built, with my brother and our neighborhood friends. The lack of technology of the 80's forced us to make up pretend worlds that were fully acted out. Those imaginary characters were so vibrant that I miss them like you would a long, lost friend.
When I turned 10, the house transformed into a girl's club to talk about makeup, other girls and of course, boys. We actually made up a full-length song about boys. It's awful: "I like the way they walk.... I like the way they talk." I am blushing just thinking about it, but wow did we think we were cool.
If I'm being honest, I don't think I was actually thinking about boys at all. What I was thinking about was how to be the MOST like Debbie Gibson and Tiffany. Singing about boys seemed to be a safe bet.
During one particular meeting of the girl's club, my friend brought her dinner over so we could eat together in the tree house. I was part of a vegetarian family and there was no way she would eat the tempeh or nut loaf that my mum had cooked. She kept it real with a burger and potato chips in a tin Strawberry Shortcake lunchbox.
My parents had worked at Erewhon Foods before green juice in LA was a thing. They were the original health nuts and thus, potato chips were a coveted treat that I rarely found myself in the presence of.
I remember tentatively asking my friend for a chip. I knew that my carob cookies would be an uneven trade, so I resigned to begging. She obliged, but said "Ok - open your mouth and close your eyes and I will give you a big surprise." She didn't have to ask me twice. My eyes slammed shut and my mouth grew into a circle large enough to encourage her to choose the biggest chip. I felt something land in my mouth and rolled it around on my tongue...
Not crispy like a chip... Mushy, like tofu... What the hell was in my mouth?!?
My friend, in an effort to conduct her own version of "exposure therapy" had shoved a big piece of her burger into my mouth. "See??" she said, "you CAN eat meat!!"
I'd like to say the friendship ended then and there, but the pickings for neighborhood companionship were slim. What did end was my trust for meat-eaters. From that day forward I would learn that I was different and hide my affinity for lentils and sugar-free cakes, simply enjoying the sides at any social gathering.
It wasn't until nutrition school that I learned a concept that helped me release some of the growing-up-vegetarian/different shame that I had been holding onto for years:
One person's food is another person's poison.
It makes so much sense on every level, right? Some foods cause severe allergic reactions, no matter how "good" for you they are. Some tastes react with a persons chemical makeup to taste like soap - I'm looking at you, cilantro.
Foods are part of our identity. They remind us of where we came from, how we experience pleasure and what our body craves to feel full. For there to be only one way to eat is like passing judgment on one's culture, identity and pleasure sources. No thank you.
I recently made my mum's nut loaf recipe and it brought me back to a childhood of whole foods and the time to cook them. Today, I own my "Flexitarian" tendencies, enjoying fish when I have a taste for it, staying burger-free and embracing flavor in my cooking that pleases MY palate. While I won't be soaking beans overnight anytime soon, this trip down memory lane provided such insight into my coaching.
For example, last week I included a recipe for jackfruit carnitas into my client's collection. I assumed that they would turn their nose up at this one, because jackfruit is honestly one of my least favorite things. But we were searching for taco alternatives so I gave it a shot.
In a shocking turn of events, they not only chose that recipe first because they had some jackfruit in their pantry (who knew ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) but they LOVED it!
It just goes to show that we all have an affinity toward the foods that nourish us. If we can get past the "quick fixes" of the stuff we think will nourish us (I'm looking at you chips!) and remember what fills our soul AND our bellies, then we're on the right track.
Understanding the bio-individuality of our nourishment has opened up a whole world of possibility from both a cooking and eating perspective. The science is clear: Diets don't work. However, if you can crack the code of your own bio-individuality, the future becomes much brighter - and tastier, too!
If you're feeling a craving to get experimental, I invite you to book a free consultation with me. We’ll discuss getting to know food again, on your terms. Click the link below to take the first step in remembering the beauty of nourishing ourselves.
