Food Foibles

I don’t like peaches.
The thought of eating a banana makes me gag.
I love green beans (especially the fresh-from-the-garden variety like we had last night), but not baked beans, or beans in my chili.
Those are my major food foibles.
We all have them — the foods that we don’t like for one reason or another, or sometimes for no particular reason at all. The disdain for bananas I can trace back to DotMom making me eat them at a young age — her ploy backfired.
I started thinking about how food preferences vary from person to person as I made some chipped beef on toast for lunch the other day. It’s one of those things that I make when there are no viable leftovers in the refrigerator. But we never have it for supper, because it’s one of Hubby Bryan’s food foibles. Evidently he ate too much of it as a kid. He also has an aversion to salmon, no matter how it is prepared — something about the salmon patties that were a staple on his family’s menu.
So I eat chipped beef for lunch when he’s not around, and since I don’t have a strong feeling about salmon either way, the absence of the fish from our menus doesn’t really bother me.
Of course, there are many foods that I THOUGHT I didn’t like that I have come to love over the years. I was a pretty picky eater as a child, but I managed to expand my food horizons after I headed off to college. For instance, I learned to love mushrooms (something that DotMom never did warm up to, hence my earlier aversion) by eating them on pizza. And then there’s steak —something Dad ordered when we ate out. We rarely had it at home, and if we did, it was cooked to well done. After we were married, Hubby turned me into a connoisseur of rare meat, although I still don’t like a pool of blood on my plate.
Likewise, Bryan never cared for winter squash until I roasted it in the oven and served it with some butter and brown sugar. Now it’s one of his favorite cold-weather veggies.
Amazingly, as picky an eater as I once was, I always ate acorn squash. And I drank tomato juice, but wouldn’t have touched an actual tomato (except in ketchup or tomato sauce, well-pureed) with a 10-foot pole. Now, I eagerly anticipate those first tomatoes fresh off the vine from the garden.
Bryan continues to pester me every once in a while about the bean ban in our house. Seems he misses beans in his chili, even though our Texas friends stand behind me in insisting that beans have no place in the chili bowl. He counters that I would like beans if I would just try them.
He’s probably right, but it’s not going to happen. I draw the line at beans. To me, it’s a texture thing — a common thread in all of my food foibles.   I have managed to consume black beans in a pinch —they seem to be a bit firmer — but no kidney or cannellini beans, or heaven forbid, refried beans —a texture nightmare to my palate.
Lucky for me, today’s recipe — although southwestern in style — does not include the offending beans. It comes highly recommended from Sister Margaret, who has currently set up shop in a temporary home in Florida while her hubby, RevDon, fills an interim pastor position at a church in Gainesville.
“I just warm up flour tortillas and serve them with grated cheese, fat-free sour cream and guacamole if you like.  They are really yummy and so easy and fast,” endorses Margaret.
 Oven Baked Fajitas
1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into strips
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 teaspoons chili powder
1½ teaspoon cumin
½ teaspoon garlic powder
½ teaspoon dried oregano
¼ teaspoon seasoned salt
1 (15 oz) can diced tomatoes with green chilies (Rotel)
1 medium onion, sliced
½ red bell pepper, cut into strips
½ green bell pepper, cut into strips
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Place chicken strips in a greased 9- by 13-inch baking dish.
In a small bowl combine the oil, chili powder, cumin, garlic powder, dried oregano, and salt. Drizzle the spice mixture over the chicken and stir to coat.
Next add the tomatoes, peppers, and onions to the dish and stir to combine.
Bake uncovered for 20 to 25 minutes or until chicken is cooked through and the vegetables are tender.


2 Responses

  1. John

    Your admitting that steak in your mother’s kitchen was cooked to well-done makes me suspect every recipe your mother ever published. I wish you had not revealed that particular fact.

  2. Beth

    Steak just wasn’t her forte! She never claimed to be a great cook — and neither do I. She just had an interest in food and enjoyed sharing good recipes — most of them not of her own devising, but of her readership.

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