My New Favourite Chocolate October 10, 2008

As regular readers might know, chocolate is a substance close to my heart.  I do not think I have lived a day since toddlerhood without eating chocolate in its solid form.  Certainly not in the last 20 years or so, anyway.  At 18 I was a ten-tubes-of-Smarties-a-day girl, having graduated from a ten-Creme-Eggs-a-day habit.

So I’d like to take this opportunity to give a great big shout-out to my new favourite chocolate.  Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the Nestles Dairy Crunch:

I’m not sure why this has superseded my previous tip-of-the-top, cream-of-the-crop, chocolate of choice, the Milka Alpenmilch as my current chocolate du jour. 

It could be that Shakespeare was right when he wrote Sonnet 102.  It could be because I’ve overdone the Milka thing over the last few months.  When it’s got so you always have at least 3 giant bars of the stuff in your fridge, you start to get blase about it, you start to fancy something a little different.  Different chocolate, different texture. 

Now, I’m not altogether a fan of Nestle chocolate (apart from the Milky Bar of course, which doesn’t really count).  If Smarties weren’t glazed in sugar, I wouldn’t bother with ’em.  But the Dairy Crunch is the perfect texture for someone with a low texture-repetition threshhold like me, who’s had it up to the back teeth with manufactured high veg-fat, low cocoa-butter smooth and silkiness (don’t get me started on the Galaxy refurb). 

I’m also not a large fan of chocolate With Things In It.  Cadbury’s Fruit & Nut used to make want to cry as a child, being strictly a Dairy Milk lover.  But the Dairy Crunch just has rice-crispies in it, which are very benign, and which go with the chocolate very well, to my mind.

So that’s nailed my colours to the mast good and proper.  How about you?

A Strange And Interesting Prospect October 7, 2008

In the course of trying to set up a real-life gathering of picky eaters – which incidentally, I think is going ahead next month sometime – I ran a mental simulation of what it might be like.  And I realised it would be really weird – in a good way, I mean. 

Because I have never in all my life met another person who is like me in this regard.  I’ve never met someone who knows what it’s like to not count certain things as food.  I’ve never met another person who’s lived their whole life with all that that entails.  I’ve never met a person who I wouldn’t have to explain this to.  I’ve never met a person who knows what it’s like, who actually understands.  Ever.  I’ve been so alone with this my whole life, I kind of can’t imagine what it would be like to suddenly not be the only one in the room like this. Do you know what I mean?

Nature & Nurture October 3, 2008

The New York Times recently reported on a twin study into child food neophobia.  This research, from my old Alma Mater, reports that 78% of the variance in food neophobia is inherited. Genetic. No-one’s fault, no-one’s choice.

“Interesting”, I thought to myself.  So then I went and found the actual article, published in the American Journal of Clinical Nutrition.  You can read it here if you want to (you may find the Discussion at the end quite interesting reading).

The study was based on a cohort of about five and a half thousand pairs of identical and non-identical twins, each member of whom completed a four-item measure of food neophobia (the Child Food Neophobia Scale).  The correlations between CFNS scores for identical twin pairs and non-indentical pairs were then examined, with the result that these correlations were higher for the identical twin pairs, indicating a genetic influence on the neophobia trait.

Using structural equation modelling, it was then found that the model best fitting the data distinguishes between two sources of variation: Genetic, and Non-shared environmental factors/measurement error.  Even if the estimate of the genetic influence at 78% is an over-estimate, it is clear that the genetic component accounts for a majority of the variation. 

The remaining 22% of variance is attributed to a combination of non-shared environmental factors and measurement error, though in what proportions it isn’t clear.  What is clear is that excluding shared environmental factors from the model does not result in a significant reduction of fit.  From which it may be inferred that shared environmental factors have minimal influence in determining a child’s food neophobia, as they have elsewhere been shown to be less influential than non-shared environment in determining other traits.

Which leads me, as a non-expert, to idly wonder, what is the difference between shared and non-shared environmental factors (and which is why I pointed you towards the Discussion in the article, which explains exactly this).  In a nutshell, it is the idea that shared environments can have non-shared effects.  The same home, parents, and culture can be experienced differently by different children, and thus have different effects upon them.  Whether this is because of the environment (eg parents) responding differently to their different offspring, or because of the child interpreting the environment differently is another question.  I’d be amazed if it wasn’t a bit of both.

You may also be wondering how they separated out the effects of these undefined shared and non-shared environmental factors.  Well, the latter component was estimated by subtracting the heritability estimate from the correlation for identical twins.  If you subtract this and the heritability estimate from the total, you are left with the estimate for the non-shared component (plus error).  Neat, huh?

So anyway, what we can take from this study is that while environment (including parenting) accounts for about a fifth of the variation in children’s food neophobia, it is genetic influence that explains the lion’s share.  For children with food neophobia (which I think we all were), it is caused largely by our genes. 

 

ps  Of the many things that I am not an expert in, behaviour genetics is one of them.  So the mechanism by which one’s genetic inheritance might give rise to food neophobia (as I have experienced it) is a mystery to me.  But this study suggests to me that it might be at least partly psychosocial.  To put that theory into better words, that would be to say that one’s genetic endowment leads one to have a psychosocial interaction with one’s environment, that in turn leads to the whole food neophobia thing.  As it might also lead to obssessive-compulsive tendencies, for eg.  Is this a post-hoc rationalisation of my experience?  Or is there no such thing as free will?  I don’t know.  Any thoughts?

Self-Help For Picky Eaters September 30, 2008

I have had an idea about how we might be able to help ourselves. 

To this end, I would like to propose, in the first instance, a real-life gathering here in London for picky eaters (apologies to those too far afield for this to be feasible).  No-one will have to eat anything if they don’t want to.  The idea is just to meet up and talk.

UPDATE (16.11.08):  This event took place yesterday.  I’d call it a success. Many thanks to those who made it.

One of the ideas that came out of it was that it might be a good thing to have a regular time to meet up online.  Obviously, this would negate the problem of people being scattered all over the world (notwithstanding time-zone differences), or people having to travel, or being anxious about meeting in real life.  And it would mean we could chat in real time.  What do you reckon, should we organise it?

Some notes on understanding

I’ve just revisited an old discussion on another website, which was a post by a non-picky eater about the concept of picky eating.  In the discussion I made a valiant effort to try to explain.  I do not think I was successful.  But I really don’t know what it is that is so hard for people to understand about picky eating.

If people know what trauma is, and I say “This traumatises me”, what is so hard to understand about that? What about it is so difficult for people to just accept?  Does it really undermine their own unquestioned beliefs about themselves and the world so much that they really can’t go there?

In a way, I don’t really mind if people don’t understand it – I don’t really understand it myself.  What bothers me is people’s refusal to accept it, just because they don’t understand it.  That strikes me as blinkered, narrow-minded, arrogant and self-centred in the extreme, not to mention a massive failure of empathy and meta-representation.

If I was blind, people wouldn’t go around saying “why don’t you just open your eyes?”, would they?  They wouldn’t go around complaining about my inability to see, as if I were doing it just to annoy or inconvenience them.  They wouldn’t for a moment betray the belief that just because they can’t understand the mechanism or cause of my blindness, that it must be in some way self-inflicted or attention-seeking or childish.  And they certainly wouldn’t keep harping on about how much I’m missing out on.

If I say to a pianist “I can’t play the piano”, he probably won’t say “you non-pianists are so annoying, what’s your problem, why don’t you just try?”  So why is “I can’t eat fruit or vegetables” so difficult for people to take on board?  It’s very simple.  I genuinely don’t get it.

People must be able to understand the concept of not being able to bring yourself to do something.  For instance, I would find it very difficult to betray a friend.  I would find it very difficult also to walk over hot coals, or throw myself off a cliff, even with a rope attached.  Other people don’t, but I personally would.  And it seems to me that the people who would have no problems doing such things don’t tend to interrogate and judge the people who’d prefer not to. 

To me, it is equally difficult to put a non-food in my mouth.  What’s not to understand?

Catering for Fussy Eaters July 10, 2008

I notice quite a few people are coming to this site by means of searching to find what foods to offer when catering for a fussy eater.  Which got me thinking as to whether there are any fail-safe universals on this score.

It seems to me we are a fairly diverse bunch, but I think there seem to be some basic rules of thumb.  For example, it seems to be that plain food is best.  The plainer the better, in fact.  This means plain and simple textures as well as plain and simple flavours. So that rules out strong flavours, and all things hot and spicy.  It also rules out things with bits in, or sauces on.  Especially bad is a dish where it isn’t visually obvious what’s in it.

For me personally, something bread- or pastry-based is good, as is most meat (though preferred if it’s plain, rather than sauce- or vegetable-mixed).  The main thing is to be able to avoid any vegetables and fruits, and any other unacceptable foods, and still leave something left on the plate.  So non-mixed things, or things which are easily separable are good.

I usually say to people that as long as there is bread or potatoes, I’ll be fine.  And then beyond that, I may or not be able to venture.  I would say the main most important rule is to not be having attention drawn to my eating (or avoiding), and to know that no-one is offended or surprised by whether and what I do or don’t eat.

What do other people think?  Are there any universally safe menu items we can all agree on?  Or any universally dangerous ones?

Fast Food, Anyone? May 23, 2008

There was a message last week from someone who is researching a documentary for Channel 4 about people who love fast food.  She hopes that some of the people who use this site will be happy to talk to her about what their favourite fast food means to them.  The link is here, if you’re interested (scroll to the bottom).

I don’t know whether I’d say I love fast food – though I must confess I have been known to eat a certain amount of the stuff.  But I certainly do have a relationship to it, which this recent enquiry has made me consider.

I am old enough to be a fast-food immigrant.  That is to say I remember the days before fast food reached these shores in earnest.  I remember when Wimpy’s opened on Chiswick High Road (where the Burger King is now).  Picky eater that I am, I was scared.  A hamburger with heaven knows what bits on it would have been way beyond the pale, so my mother ordered me their Chicken Pieces (a far superior fore-runner to McDonalds’ Chicken Nuggets).  I was upset about there not being any plates or cutlery, and I was wary of the food, but being assured it was just chicken, I gave it a go.   It was good.

Around the same time (circa age 6), I remember a conversation my mother had with the mother of a friend of mine, while they were arranging for me to go and play at his house.  “Does she eat junk food?” was the question, to which my mother replied in the affirmative.  I was horrified.  I didn’t know what junk food was, but I knew I hadn’t heard of it, and that it sounded horrible, and that therefore I wouldn’t touch it with a bargepole.  How could my mother condemn me to such a fate so readily?  Of course, when it was explained to me that it’s a name for lovely things like beefburgers and chips and crisps and chocolate, I changed my tune.  In the event, I think that was the afternoon I first ate KP Skips.  In pretty flower shapes. 

I soon progressed to hamburgers (with no nothing on them of course).  It was an easy transition to McDonalds when they opened their emporium up the High Road, and though I was sad to see Wimpys go, I took the Burger King that replaced it in my stride (sesame seeds notwithstanding).  Before these three, fast food in West London consisted of, on weekends only, Spud-U-Like in Shepherd’s Bush, and sometimes chips from the chip-shop in Richmond.  But these didn’t have a Mr Wimpy or a Ronald McDonald standing around outside handing out balloons and paper hats and so on.  Spud-U-Like had a potato-face on the fork-handle which I liked, but the old-skool rather lacked the party atmosphere of the new arrivals, so no competition really, for a 6-year-old.  (Interestingly, while I would eat a Wimpy or McDonald’s hamburger, I found home-made ones horrid.)

I think there was a KFC, but that was not for People Like Us.  Still isn’t, as far as I can tell.  The few times I have eaten there, I am overwhelmingly struck by the lack of respect held by that institution for its customers.  Poor quality design, poor quality environment, poor quality clientele, plus they try and palm you off with poor quality merchandise that you wouldn’t feed to a dog.  Even one that does like chicken. 

Which brings me on to my next point.  I have elected to eat in a KFC on occasion, as opposed to somewhere more…salubrious, but the reason for this is not because I love the food.  It’s because I know I can bear to eat some of it.  Bearing to eat it is not the same as loving it, although when you end up being so grateful for things you can bear to eat, the boundary can get blurred there a little bit.  Even if KFC (or fast food in general) were all I ate, it still wouldn’t mean that I loved it necessarily, only that it was the lesser (to me) of a range of evils. 

The fact is that I feel a better feeling, of a greater more satisfying wholesomeness, when I eat fresh proper food that’s made from scratch.  If could really choose freely, that would be all that I ate.  Of course, there are questions of time constraints and convenience, but for me there is also the rather major restriction in terms of the variety of foodstuffs I can deal with.  So I appreciate fast food as a reliable option for a limited palate.  It’s well within my comfort zone, shall we say, and beggars can’t be choosers.  But I think it’s fair to say I love fresh food more.  More variety, more taste, more goodness.  I don’t really see how anyone with a free range of eating and a normal IQ could ever possibly say they loved fast food.

I once saw Billy Connolly in stand-up, doing a joke about McDonalds.  He said he reckoned they put something in their food to make it addictive.  Little did he know.  Turns out all their food is artificially flavoured and scented.  To make your brain think it’s something that it isn’t.  To make your brain think it’s more delicious than it is.  They have whole vast laboratories dedicated to this task.  The body doesn’t lie though.

Another thing I have fast food to thank for is a large part of the extension of my eating repertoire.  I have blogged previously about how McDonalds taught me to cope with ketchup, which led to pizza, which led to all things tomato-based.  They also taught me to love mayonnaise, and to cope with finely chopped onions, and with the odd stray piece of lettuce.  It is precisely because it is fast food that it carries an incentive to take it as it comes.

I would also like to take this opportunity to raise a few points on the BK-McD’s dichotomy.  Burger King (obviously) is not as good as McDonalds – it seems greasier and less uniform, and also the bun has sesame seeds – though they don’t bother with onions which is good, and their mustard is far superior (speaking as one who doesn’t actually like mustard, or eat it in any othe context).  Prior to 1999, both their french fries were good, until silly old BK decided to “invent” a new kind of stay-hotter-longer french fry, which is edible, but minging, compared to the gold standard of McDonalds.  I don’t know whether others share this view…

But it can’t be denied also that fast food carries a certain stigma in these modern times.  High fat, high salt, low fibre.  The environment.  Oppressive business practices.  Supersize Me.  Which is why going on television to tell the word I’m Lovin’ It would not be something that I personally would relish.  Especially because most of the rest of the world don’t realise that as selective eaters, our food choices are often more pragmatic than indulgent.  I enjoy some fast food, yes, but in context. 

I can conceive of people out there who never eat any fast food.  They don’t have to.  They can get by without it.  Good for them, I say.  But can they conceive of people like me? 

Your mileage of course may vary.  So tell us: What’s your stance on fast food?  Necessary evil, or beloved staple?

Pomodoro April 3, 2008

A dreadful thing happened to me today.  Let me tell it to you.

I was fancying some fresh tomatoey pasta, so I popped out to a very nice local restaurant that I know, with a penne pomodoro in mind. Why did I not just buy some tomatoes from the market and skin and blend and cook them?  Because a) I couldn’t be bothered, and b) it’s not as nice as when you get it in a restaurant.

So.  The waiter comes to take my order, and I notice there isn’t a pomodoro on the menu.  So I ask him, is it possible to have just a pasta pomodoro.  He says yes.  Something about cherry tomatoes.  Fair enough, I thought.  I don’t personally care what tomatoes it is, as long as it’s a pomodoro pasta sauce.

So.  Some little while later, he returns to the table and puts down a plate of pasta.  I looked at it in horror.  My little heart didn’t know what to do.  Because there wasn’t any sauce on it to speak of, only loads of cherry tomatoes all over the shop.  As Colin would say, it might as well have been pasta a la dog shit as far as I’m concerned.

I tried to think what to do.  I tried to wonder if I could force myself.  But if I’m paying for food, I want to at least enjoy it, and that would have been totally out of the question.  My next thought was to pay him to take it away, and leave, asap.  I actually felt quite upset.  I wanted to cry.

But d’you know what I did?  I don’t know where my courage came from, but I said to him, “um, the thing is, what I was wanting was a pomodoro, a sauce, you know?”  Well, he wasn’t especially happy, let me tell you.  But he took it away, and to my great relief and eternal gratitude, came back with a proper penne pomodoro.  ‘Twas delish. 

Therapy For Picky Eaters March 27, 2008

Today I had an email from someone who offers online and telephone counselling worldwide, and face-to-face in Glasgow, and guess what?  She works with adult picky eaters!

She’s a member of the BPS, which means her psychology degree is top-notch (like mine!), and she’s BACP-registered which means she’s a “proper” counsellor.  She’s trained in person-centred counselling, and uses solution-focussed brief therapy, which I’ve incidentally been reading about, thanks to Colin.  It looks to be quite effective. More on that later.

In the meantime, see her details below:

Diana Armstrong-Wotherspoon
Professional and confidential counselling from the comfort of your own home – by live chat, email or telephone. Secure card payments, evening and weekend appointments available.
www.ArmstrongCounselling.co.uk
0141 9469096 or
07799765100

Freaky Eaters Series 2 March 20, 2008

For anyone who’s missed this, and for anyone not in the UK, Freaky Eaters Series 2 is on YouTube!  This is the first episode, in 5 parts, and I would just like to say, hats off to Nat, the star of this episode.  You’re a braver woman than me.

When I saw the first series, it made me cry to see the poor people trying not to vomit.  This one made me laugh with recognition and admiration. Totally inspiring stuff.