My Evolution Into a Foodie

Every family has a picky eater, the kid who spends at least three hours at the dinner table, surreptitiously transferring food to the dog or her brother’s plate or the trash can under the kitchen sink (a daring move and, if you cloak it under a napkin and your mom doesn’t notice, well worth the inherent risk), thinking if she cuts her food in small enough bites, it will magically disappear. I was that child. This is the story of my evolution into a quasi-normal adult who can eat a fried egg without gagging. Continue reading