Growing up, there were two sides of food taste in our family. There were those that sided with my mother, that meant you liked stir-fry, ethnic food and lots of vegetables. There was my father's side, where you liked meat and potatoes, meat and potatoes or MORE meat and potatoes. I resided firmly in my father's camp. Feed my boiled potatoes and baked chicken for weeks on end and I was a happy, happy girl. Feed me stir-fry and I wanted to curl up in a sobbing little ball. I could never understand WHY we couldn't eat potatoes and meat every night. It was so TASTY! And heck, it was so CHEAP. This was a slight source of tension to my parents when my father would sit down to a meal he considered to be "rabbit food". I would not so quietly side with my father.

Somewhere in life, where I am not exactly sure, I crossed over to the dark side. I became a lover of sprouts, weird vegetables and trying strange and mysterious foods. Of course, I married someone in the opposing camp. He's getting to be quite good at trying new things, but is at first glance, quite opposed to all things new. Let me be fair, it isn't so much the trying of new things as it is change. My dearest darling husband loathes change, paticularly in food.

While at first I found it beyond frustrating, I now find it exceedingly amusing. Things do come full circle. And all the grief I gave my mother, I am almost regretting. But not quite, because if I hadn't, I wouldn't be so prepared to deal with him.

Compromise is a beautiful thing.

Labels: food, husband, life