Showing posts with label Food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Food. Show all posts

Monday, 2 April 2018

Foods I Dislike

Most weeks I schlep out to the shops with my parents to have coffee and do a bit of shopping. On one such occasion, we were unpacking groceries into the boot of my parents car. We heaved bag after bag until there was no more room. 

"Christ, we must EAT!' my mother remarked. I laughed and agreed. My life is a non-stop round of food food FOOD.

Thinking about what food to buy, buying the food, putting it away. Preparing the food, cooking the food, serving the food. Then doing this all over again infinitum. As much as I love food, it can get a bit repetitive and dreary at times.

I know, I know. First world problems, for sure. I am certainly grateful for the abundance of food available to me.  That I never have to go hungry.

Luckily, there are not too many foods I dislike. I was rather more picky as a child. This was the result of being thoroughly spoiled by my mum's superb culinary ability. I swear she could have been Margaret Fulton or someone, only BETTER.  As a child,I turned my freckled nose up at the inferior offerings others presented me with.

Store bought cakes or apple pie? Poison.

Chunky hearty soups? Yuck.

Tinned spaghetti? The HORROR.

If only such an attitude had persisted into adulthood. I'd be svelte and smug instead of plump and sheepish. These days I'll pretty much eat anything that isn't nailed down. And let's be real, probably try to prise off anything that IS nailed down.

Well, ALMOST anything. There are a select few foods that even this glutton isn't too thunderstruck about.

Such as:


Stringy, bland, chewy and just plain BLAH, celery must be one of the most joyless foods nature provided. Naturally, celery is good for you. Low in calories, packed with anti-oxidants, and supposedly, calming for the nervous system. So the internet tells me, anyway. Must be true, right. 😉

In short, a healthy snack option.  A shame I'd rather snack on my own toe nails. I CAN eat it disguised in a stir-fry, soup or coleslaw, but it's still not my favourite. As for munching on a stalk for the sake of it  - it's a definite NO from me.


Often teamed with the above celery is this delectable delight. Except it isn't. Delectable, that is. Or delightful in any way whatsoever. I'm not going to describe what it reminds me of. You can probably guess. In a bid to be healthy, I foolishly purchased a tub of this chunder. Oops, I said it...

It's now languishing in the fridge. I need to chuck it out NOW instead of avoiding the inevitable. Why do torture myself?


I just don't like them. They're too... fishy...

Surprisingly, I quite like canned tuna, and even salmon. But sardines make me shudder. And just to make it worse, you can also buy them swimming in tomato sauce. Bleerrrggghhh.

Maybe I just haven't tried fresh ones. I don't know. But for now, it's not just a no. It's a HELL, NO!


These little fart balls from hell are no doubt packed with nutrition. I don't care. Put them in front of me and I will pout and refuse to eat them with the sheer determination laced with disgust of your average three year old.

Nope, nope, nopity NOPE.



I must admit I have a bizarre love/hate relationship with this staple of good old-fashioned Aussie hamburgers. Once in a blue moon I crave and covet some beetroot with the intensity I usually reserve for cakies. Then, just as quickly, it absolutely revolts me. I cannot even bear to look at it, swimming in a sea of it's own crimson blood in a container in the fridge. Inevitably, the container ends up spilling and resembling  a murder scene, and I'm left wondering why I bothered indulging my short lived craving.


More farty goodness. Don't get me wrong, a good old baked bean jaffle with cheese can be just the thing on a bleak winter's day when you feel like pretending  it's still 1978. Just me?

Then, inexplicably, it's just NOT.  Baked beans are another love/hate kind of thing for me. Sometimes they hit the spot. Other times they hit the garbage can. Fast. 

There you have it. The foods I dislike. 

There are probably others, but why waste time and energy on them when there's cake and chocolate in the world. That's what I say.

What about you?

What foods do you dislike?

Monday, 15 May 2017

Do You Eat Your Feelings?

Hello there, strangers! Yes, it's little 'ole me, back to entertain you after a bit of a break that went on longer than the school holidays. But you get that. Things to do. Places to go. People to see. That sort of thing. Except there wasn't. Unless my family, grocery shopping and scrolling mindlessly through Facebook count. See? I told you. All such important things. Yes, indeed. Such a fascinating and action-packed life I lead.

Anyway, I lied. I'm not so little. Oops. This is likely due to the fact that, in addition to all of the above, I have also been busily eating all of my  feelings. Every single one of them. They all taste suspiciously like cakies. Sadness = cakies.  Happiness = cakies. Boredom = cakies. Joy = cakies. Stressed? Eat a cakie. Relaxing? Best way to do so is with enough sugary carbs to induce a diabetic coma... You get the picture. 

Which segues neatly to this week's Life This Week prompt:

My favourite junk food. 

I bet you can't guess. Drum roll, please...


Haha! Tricked you! 

Chocolate AND cake. What a surprise. With an honourable mention of hot chips. Because who doesn 't love hot chips with chicken salt and/or gravy? Shut up, all you low carb/no carb fanatics. No one wants to hear about it. Just go and eat your salad and be sad. Or smug and energetic and glowing. I'm not jealous AT ALL.

Image credit:

Yep, basically I am addicted to sugar and all carbs. 

Needless to say, my trysts with the dietition are going splendidly well. Using 'splendidly well' in the sense of  are a complete and utter charade.

At my last visit I had managed to lose a whopping one kilo, but heavens knows how many more I have since put on. Sigh.

Don't you just hate people who whinge about being fat while they shovel anything that isn't nailed down into their gobs? Just quietly, people who whinge about being fat while being nothing of the kind are worse. This was also me some years ago. DOH.

It occurs to me that I never had significant issues with food when I when I was younger. Especially when I was still living with my parents. However, these days I am the person who is primarily responsible for everything food related. I have to do the grocery shopping, cook the meals and feed a family. 

This means that it often feels like all I ever think about is food. I don't find this very helpful. It appears that I have no impulse control when it comes to my eating habits. Additionally, I am now the mother of teenage boys. They constantly eat. They also never put on weight. I seem to have some sort of delusion that I'm also a gangly teenage boy, instead of an overweight middle aged woman. 

Yeah, I know. I need a gigantic kick up the you know what. It's quite obvious from what I have told you that I am the one who buys or bakes the cakies (except when my mum does...),  and I don't want to confront my addiction. I'd rather act like a petulant three year old, sulking in the corner because she can't have cake for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. And snacks...

Plus, most of the stuff that I like to do, such as reading or writing, is quite sedentary. Why couldn't I have been one of these sporty types? 

Oh, well. Enough of my whinging. I'll plod back to the dietitian and see what happens. She also suggested counselling and I was a bit meh about it. I've been backwards and forwards to shrinks and counselors for years and then basically had to figure out I'm autistic myself! But maybe it's not such a bad idea.

It's either that or wiring my jaw shut. Too extreme? 

Of course I could decide to hell with it, who cares what size I am. I certainly could not care less about anyone else's weight or size, so why torture myself? The thing is, though, I've had breast cancer, am on medication for high cholesterol and have a family history of type 2 diabetes. Therefore, keeping my weight within a reasonable range is actually rather important. DAMMIT. 

So I guess my food/weight issues are not going anywhere... Well, except for my waist, thighs etc... Eventually I may have the maturity and emotional intelligence to realise that I can just FEEL my feelings and leave the cakies the hell out of it. Hopefully before I'm around 75 years old and morbidly obese.  More sighs.

But I suspect cakies will always remain my favourite junk food.

What's yours? 

Are you an emotional eater? 

Linking up for Life This Week. 

Monday, 19 September 2016

Favourite Family Meals

Meals are my favourite times of the day. It's a shame I have to cook them. But for some reason the pesky old dinner fairy refuses to show up.  In fact, my life pretty much revolves around eating. Sad, but true. 

The favourite crowd pleasing meal around these parts would have to be the old bog standard roast.

Otherwise it's anything chicken. Roast chook, drumsticks, schnitzel and the good old bbq chooks from the supermarket when I'm too lazy busy to make anything. 

In fact Mr 12 once referred to himself as Chicken Connor. But he probably wouldn't like me telling anyone that. Shhhhhh, don't tell him I told you. 

When I was growing up my favourites were baked chicken or spaghetti bolognaise. Clearly my boys inherited my originality. 

Well, actually only one boy out of my three will eat spaghetti bolognaise or anything with a sauce. My younger two detest all sauces. They don't even like tomato sauce with chicken nuggets or sausages, like most kids. Weird.

Truthfully my seven year old exists on chicken (which has to be the pure white breast part only; or schnitzel), potatoes, boiled eggs, tuna, fruit and the smell of an oily rag. That's another one of my Mum's sayings.  I forgot about that one. 

I'll pretty much eat anything that isn't nailed down and most likely have a go at the nailed down stuff as well. This is interesting because as a child I was somewhat picky. I only liked my Mum's cooking. Related: my Mum is a superb cook. There was even one instance as a child when a former family friend wondered if I may be anorexic. I can hear all the hysterical laughter. Sniff. How times change. 

When it comes to cooking I am this weird sort of dichotomy where one night I can make something fabulous and delicious, the next something even my dog wouldn't eat. I have fits and fancies. Sometimes I'm really motivated to cook and into it. Other times I'd rather poke my eyeballs out. I prefer looking up new recipes and trying different things. But the whole cooking-for-a-fussy-family-throw-some-sausages-in-a-pan-thing bores me shitless and makes me stabby. 

There is also the sad truth that my kitchen is approximately the size of a postage stamp. We also do not possess a dishwasher in 2016. What are we like? I'll tell you: broke economical. So ner!

And don't get me started on the other phenomenon where everyone insists that you should get your kids involved in the kitchen.  Not spectacularly easy when a) you have a tiny kitchen, and b) you're not particularly wonderful at the thing you're trying to teach some one else to do and c) the person you're trying to teach isn't totally into it. My boys enthusiasm for learning to cook is in direct contrast to their desire to eat, which is constant. Hmmm, wonder where they inherited THAT from...

I only really learnt a few bits and pieces about cooking during high school home science classes. The rest I made up as I went or learnt from The Women's Weekly Basic cookbook. It is exactly that. It tells you all the basics from how to boil an egg, cook a roast and make scones. My boys love my scones.

 Anyway, I used that book until it fell apart. Luckily I was able to get another one, but now that is also falling to bits. I'm hoping I can find another one on Evilbay. 

Apart from all of that there's always the true Dinner Fairy. Meaning, take away.  And I must admit, sometimes that is truly my favourite. 

Linking up for Life This Week , Open Slather and Mummy Mondays.

What are your favourite family meals? 

Monday, 12 May 2014

Food, Glorious Food

I’ve always loved food and have a terrible sweet tooth. Which is quite obvious, considering how often I mention cake on this blog.  Fortunately, my sugar cravings were kept at a respectable level while I was growing up due to my Mum’s brilliant home cooking. Whenever we had cakies or sweets they were always homemade. In fact, one of my brother’s pet peeves was the fact that we never had bought biscuits!  These days I’m sure he’d prefer the homemade ones, but for some reason back then he just wanted Tim Tams or whatever was popular in the 70’s. Iced Vo Vo's? Scotch Fingers? Something like that, anyway. 

There was a period of time as a teenager when I used to take the whole a Mars a day helps you work, rest and play advertising slogan quite seriously. I managed to eat one nearly every day while still remaining slim. Oh, to have the metabolism of a teenager again!

Unbelievably now (considering I'll eat just about anything that isn't nailed down), I used to be quite fussy about what I would and wouldn’t eat, preferring my Mum’s cooking to any type of take away or packaged food.  If we visited any friends or relatives where we were served frozen apple pie my reaction was one of sheer revulsion. They may as well as have served me dog shit on toast such was my horror. Spoiled little princess that I was. However, you have to understand that I was used to my Mum’s homemade apple pie. And, as my nephew has stated: this is not just apple pie; it’s an experience. Yep, my Mum could have aced MasterChef if it had been around back then. Actually she still could if she wanted to, but she’s nearly 73 and probably sick of all the cooking by now. 

There was always a hot, tasty meal on the table at around 6pm every night when I was growing up. Even though it was often the standard fare of chops and three veg, roast chicken or spaghetti bolognaise, somehow my Mum managed to put that extra bit of love in it to make it taste better than anyone else’s cooking. It was a very rare occasion if we had take away.

Occasionally we would get dressed up and go out for dinner to a local Chinese restaurant.  For a long time I wouldn’t try any Chinese food.  I’d have my chicken and chips, sometimes followed by a banana split for dessert. Eventually my parents managed to coax me into eating the fried rice, then short soup and chicken omelette. And that was exotic for me. I didn’t really taste many new and different foods.

In addition to this, I really haven’t travelled a lot, so I’ve never had opportunities to try different foods. I did go to Holland with my parents when I was ten years old in 1981, but I don’t remember trying many different foods. I stuck with the sweet stuff and lived on custard while there.  I seem to vaguely recall that it was the custom there to smother hot chips with peanut sauce. At the time this struck me as the most revolting thing EVER. Thinking about it now, though, it occurs to me that it was probably a satay type sauce and that I’d really like it now. I was just a weird child. 

I think one of the reasons I’m struggling with my weight as a middle aged woman (apart from my cake and chocolate addiction) is that I’m finding that I just like a lot more different foods now which I would have once found completely disgusting. Certain imaginary (online) friends who shall remain nameless are repulsed by my penchant for Indian food referring to all curry as ‘spicy puke’. Once upon a time I certainly would have shared this view. However, my taste buds have developed and my arse has grown accordingly. My sugar addiction has continued in conjunction with these developing taste buds. Oh who am I kidding, I’m just a big glutton.  Shut up. 

The only extremely strange and bizarre food (to me) that I can remember trying is pig’s ear. I can’t say I found it very appetising. This happened when I was working at the State Library of NSW years decades ago and a lovely Taiwanese lady whom I worked with, invited me to her home for a meal. One of the things she cooked was pig’s ear. Maybe there is another term for the dish but I don’t recall, except that it was made with the pig’s ear.  I only remember the texture being rubbery and chewy and I’m not sure if I managed to swallow it. All of the other dishes the lady had prepared were fine but I definitely couldn’t get into the pig’s ear. Just thinking of it now makes me shudder. But hey, at least I tried it, right? When I Googled the term 'cooked pig's ear' a veritable feast of recipes appeared. I guess it is a popular culinary delight to many people but I think I'll pass. 

I may have to get used to some different types of food, though. In a moment of madness I have signed up for the Get Healthy service and will be starting my telephone coaching very soon; beginning my ‘get healthy’ journey. Oh fuck, I’ve just become one of those people who says they’re on a ‘journey’. If I start mentioning kale and quinoa then you know I've been abducted by aliens and it’s not me writing this blog anymore.  On second thought, I’m pretty sure I’ll leave them with the pig’s ear. 

Linking up with Kirsty from My Home Truths for I MustConfess.

And linking this up yet again for The Lounge.


What's the weirdest food you've ever tried?

Tuesday, 8 May 2012

Miscellaneous Morsels

A few days ago I appeared to be in a cooking mood.  I made Spicy Puke ie curry, rice pudding and pikelets. I totally forgot that you're supposed to take artfully lit photos of these tempting treats, so you'll just have to imagine them.  All of these offerings were actually partaken of and consumed.  This is a monumental event in our house.

Truthfully, I will never be auditioning for Master Chef. Or even Mediocre Chef.  Even though, in reality every meal here feels like a Master Chef challenge, with my boys being tougher critics than Matt Preston and co.  It is quite the challenge trying to feed them.
Master 8 will scoff grilled fish with enthusiasm, one night, exclaiming "Mmmmm! I LOVE fish!" So then, I confidently serve fish again with flourish the following week only to hear: "Yuuuuuck!! I HATE fish!"

This battle started from the day they were born.  I sucked at breast feeding. The baby didn't.  I felt like a failure.  The feeding problems persist to this day.

Cake made by my Mum for my 40th birthday.Who needs Masterchef, I have my Mum.
My mother happens to be the best cook in the whole world. Makes melt in your mouth apple pie.  The Best Caramel Slice In The World Ever.  That's what I call it.  Because it is.

Unfortunately I did not inherit this ability.  Sometimes my culinary efforts are fine.  Often they aren't.  It may have more to do with the fact that I frequently  can't be bothered more than anything else. I'm sure I could become reasonably competent in the kitchen if I could somehow summon up the interest and desire to do so.

Somehow when you have three fussy kids and this has to be done everyday it suddenly becomes a massive chore. "Get them involved" say the 'experts' "Get them into the kitchen, cooking with you."  Yeah right. It's all very well for the Jamie Oliver's of the world to suggest this, but they obviously don't  have a kitchen the size of a postage stamp.   Frankly if I put on any more weight, I'll have a hard enough time fitting in there myself let alone getting my kids in there as well.

Besides, they only want to help if we are making something cake like, so they can make a gigantic mess, with flour everywhere, get to lick the bowl then leave me with said gigantic mess to clean up. As well as cakie things which they won't eat because they weren't made by Grandma.  I will then proceed to eat all of them, when I really shouldn't.

I also hear all these stories of children who just love vegetables.  When I announce I can never get my boys to eat anything green, such as broccoli (I don't think their own snot counts) other parents stare at me open mouthed. "Really?" they say "I just tell them it's little trees and they eat it." So I attempted to convince Master 3 to eat it with this method "Look at the little trees!" I said, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.  Truthfully I don't really get that excited over it either, at least not as excited as I do over chocolate and cakies, but I had to try to convince him.

Master 3 then proceeded to show me exactly what he thought of my pathetic attempts at vegetable consumption coercion by throwing the 'little trees' at me. He also threw the burgers we had last night.  When I informed him we were having burgers he reminded me rather scornfully "You get those at McDonald's you know." perhaps also inferring that they might be superior to anything I could cook.

Is it foolish to keep repeatedly trying to make healthy meals for your kids when they are happier with fish fingers and two minute noodles? And I'm happier with a lot less washing up? I think I'll just go with the second option tonight.