Isn’t there some sort of moratorium on this wheedling, insisting crap? I don’t like game meat, I’ve tried it several times, and maybe it’s all in my head, but it locks my throat and turns my stomach. I’m not on Social Security yet, but it’s not that far away, and Christ, if I say politely, no thanks, and you’re gauche enough to say why and I say, I don’t care for game meat, then FCS, leave it!!!
I can’t abide the smell of stewed lamb, although I love lamb, I am NOT going to try the lamb stew, it’s not going to happen! Leave it alone, dammit!
You haven’t had it the way I make it. Just try a taste.
(I put my foot down over sweet potatoes years ago. They are yucky. End of discussion. I do not believe anyone has tried to wheedle or cajole me into eating something I did not want to since I turned 25.)
One time when I was visiting my in laws, I declined something or other, not because I didn’t like it but because I was full. When my back was turned to speak to someone, my mother in law put the food on my plate. God I was pissed.
Or the “just give it to you anyway” crap. I have been wondering the same thing recently. I should have thought that by about 20 or 21 or so, one ought to be allowed to have preferences: I mean, it’s no longer a case of persuading a young child not to be a tiresomely fussy eater, isn’t it?
I am 52 today and I think I am sometimes still expected to eat stuff I don’t like. Except I just don’t damn well eat it.
O woe! I see from Prof. Periwinkle that I can expect more years of this. Oh well, I suppose I’d prefer my relatives continue being alive to give me unwanted food than, you know, not being around.
I think this is unspeakably rude, and if someone is acting super rude to me, I have a right (IMHO) to be just as rude back in self defense. In other words, when you pull this shit with me, I will tell you to back the fuck off. And I do not feel bad about dumping unwanted, unasked-for food you put on my plate directly into the trash can while maintaining bitchy eye contact.
I will try lots and lots and lots of stuff. I am an adventurous eater. If I say i don’t like it, I don’t fucking like it!!
Happy birthday, and my condolences about the relatives who still think you are six and just being picky.
There aren’t a lot of things I absolutely cannot eat, but my sainted mother taught me how to handle this kind of thing. Keep saying “No thank you” without giving a reason. If they insist, rather than make a scene, you take a “no thank you” helping, which is about one bite, and then smear it around your plate without eating any of it. If they ask you how it was, you say “It was fine” with no further explanation.
My mother also says it is rude for a host to take any official notice of what a guest is or is not eating. Sometimes this kind of etiquette is frustrating and out-of-date, but sometimes it helps.
This is way politer than my way, and I’m going to add it to my repertoire, but for real. Do NOT underestimate the power of giving someone the stink-eye while you dump food in the trash.
I get this a lot. “Just try it, you’ll like it!” And I will admit that I have tried some things that I have found I like cooked differently than the way my mother cooked it when I was growing up, but I am very firm in my response to food pushers.
The first offer is met with, “No, thank you.” The second offer is met with, “No. I am an adult and I choose what I eat.” If it gets any farther than that I work in a few swears and some name calling. “I will not eat that. Who the fuck are you to push food I don’t want on me, Sam I Am?”
When I was in my late 20’s, my husband and his parents went to a buffet supper fundraiser. The meal was simple: roast beef, mashed potatoes, and string beans. I took the first two. My mother-in-law pointed out the string beans to me, twice. The first time I said, “Mm-hmm” as I passed them by. After the second time, I said, “I’m 27 (or whatever I was) and I don’t have to eat string beans anymore.” She never pushed it after that.
Once I saw George Bush on TV say, “I’m the President of the United States and I don’t have to eat broccoli if I don’t want to.”
Every single time my husband orders port in a restaurant, he takes a sip and then says, “Oh, you’ll like this one! This one’s different!” although he really must know better by now. I take a sip to get it over with, then make all the snide comments I want about Vicks or Robitussin.
I’m not a fan of game meat either. I was visiting friends of a friend on vacation and was asked if I would like some deer heart. I politely declined, but the guy wouldn’t hear of it. He actually questioned my manhood because I didn’t want to eat his damn deer heart. I decided to take a bite just to shut him up. It wasn’t horrible, but I really resented being pressured to eat something by my “host”.
There are very very few things I don’t like and I will try anything once. If I refuse to eat it again, you had better believe there is a reason. Like I really wish I liked baba ghanoush, but I don’t. I actually don’t really like eggplant, but I will indulge people by trying a bite, except for baba ghanoush. I like most Levantine food, just not b.g.
I grew up around picky eaters, and my husband is sort of picky. My default is make everything plain and add in other stuff. But except for my son I don’t do the “you have to try this.” Because it is rude. I saw my brother cry when we went out to eat, because he didn’t like the food and was being tormented. I swore I would never do that. On the other hand my son likes a wide variety of foods, so I don’t get worked up about what he doesn’t eat.
It’s ridiculous to write off “game meat” because it encompasses everything from dove to elk. You cannot like duck and you cannot like venison and you cannot like pheasant, but those animals are so different in every culinary and biological way, it’s absurd to lump them together under a category as wide as “not domesticated.”
There is the other side of the coin when you are in your late 30’s and when you go out to dinner with your mom she still tries to veto your order.
wolfman: I would like the X please
wolfmom: No you wouldn’t like that.
wolfman: Umm, yeah I think I would.
wolfmom: no it has tomatoes, you don’t like tomatoes.
wolfman: I love tomatoes!
wolfmom: no you don’t you pick them off.
wolfman: When I was 5! and those were the nasty slimy old tomatoes grandma got cheap at the used grocery store.
Waitress and rest of restaraunt: Snicker:Snicker:Snicker
Aren’t there enough food issues to go around without the need to install more?
At work one day, it was one of my colleague’s birthday, with cupcakes for everyone. A couple of folks tried to pressure our new boss into taking one, which he politely declined. The attitude seemed to be that since he wasn’t overweight or diabetic, he was just being anti-social. Duh! He eats a very healthy diet and does a lot of exercise to keep that healthy weight. Cupcakes have to be scheduled in.
Oh well, I suppose I’d prefer my relatives continue being alive to give me unwanted food than, you know, not being around.