Once upon a time there were two sisters, not very far apart in age, who were reared in the same household by the same parents. They grew up and married, remained in touch, and shared holidays and occasional get-togethers with immediate family members. Foods they shared tended to be either traditional holiday fare like turkey and dressing, or else a quick meal like a salad or sandwich as they met for lunch. Otherwise, each sister went her own way in eating and cooking for her family, going comfortably from young adulthood to middle age, each in her own path.
Then it became necessary for the sisters to travel and spend a couple of weeks together. And it quickly became apparent how widely those paths had diverged.
Each sister had married a man whose sense of adventure was fairly limited. The older one (me) has a husband who likes Southern comfort food -- roast beef, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese; he likes few vegetables other than potatoes, green beans and corn. The younger one (B) has a husband who eats almost nothing -- he will eat white bread, plain roasted white meat chicken, a hamburger on a plain bun (no condiments or cheese), and "paper" potatoes (mashed potatoes made from potato flakes in a paper pouch, and water). He also eats French fries, Twinkies, and M&Ms. That's it. No vegetables other than potatoes. No salads. No green anything.
Each of us responded to our spouse's lack of adventure in a different way. I branched out, experimenting with chiles and herbs and spices and many kinds of unfamiliar vegetables in different kinds of ethnic cuisines, knowing that I would have to cook a separate meal for the traditionalist I'd married. B narrowed her choices to essentially what her husband was willing to eat, with a few additions that she would indulge in when he wasn't with her.
This made for an interesting two weeks.
We had arranged to stay in a suite hotel with a kitchenette ("ette" because there was a stovetop and full refrigerator, but no oven). I was willing to cook all our meals because we were in Houston for consultation at a world-famous cancer center, and after each day of imitating a pincushion, B was too worn out to consider going out to eat. She was happy to put her feet up and allow me to cater to her.
Subversive that I am, I was determined to use the two weeks to secretly woo my sister away from processed junk food. The hotel was near a Whole Foods and not far from Central Market. I took with us some things I'd already bought at home as well as a few meals I'd prepared ahead and frozen, knowing that we'd be arriving fairly late on the first night. This is one of her favorites.
Simple Beef Vegetable Soup
- ½ onion, diced
- about 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 1½ pounds lean ground beef
- 1 (14-ounce) can diced tomatoes (preferably unsalted)
- 2 cups frozen or fresh green beans (or 1 can green beans
- 2 cups frozen or fresh corn off the cob (or 1 can corn, not creamed variety
- 2 cups sliced new potatoes
- seasonings: try 1/2 tsp thyme or tarragon or oregano, more if you like
- salt and pepper to taste
- In a Dutch oven or stockpot, sauté the onion in the olive oil until softened. Add the ground beef and cook until crumbled and brown. Drain off all excess fat.
- Add the tomatoes, beans, corn, and potatoes. Add enough water to cover everything at least 1" deep.
- Simmer for 1 hour, adding more water if it cooks down too much.
- Stir in seasoning of choice, plus salt and pepper to taste.
Makes 8-10 generous servings, or 4-5 for my sister.
The next day, we went to Whole Foods and bought eggs, milk, cheeses (parmesan, feta, blue, Emmenthaler, and extra sharp cheddar), fresh fruits and vegetables, some sourdough bread, and apple juice. She discovered that she absolutely adored free-range eggs; she kept asking what I'd done to make them taste so good. Nothing! They were scrambled with no added fat in my Scanpan sauté pan which I had brought from home. She was eating real, tasty, old-fashioned eggs instead of the mass-produced kind sold in most grocery stores. Milk was similarly delicious. What a discovery! Milk that didn't taste like rocket fuel!
She didn't eat a single Pop-Tart for breakfast the whole time we were together.
I went back a couple of times during the week to get ingredients. I enjoyed the challenge of showing her some different dishes that tasted good and didn't conflict with her idea of what was acceptable, while working with the limited equipment I had available. This one was easy and well-received:
Pasta with Broccoli and Chicken in Cheese Sauce
- 8 ounces penne pasta
- 1/2 pound fresh broccoli florets
- 1/2 pound cooked chicken, cut into bite-size pieces†
- 1 tablespoon butter
- about 1/4 cup milk or half-and-half
- about 1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese
- Steam the broccoli. I do this in the microwave, using just a bit of water in a covered bowl with the broccoli, and microwaving on High for about 5 minutes. Drain off any remaining water when done.
- Meanwhile, cook the penne pasta as directed on package; drain. Place the empty pasta pot back on the heat and melt the butter. Add the milk or half-and-half, then stir in the parmesan cheese. Stir for a minute or two until the cheese melts and the sauce becomes smooth.
- Add the pasta, broccoli, and chicken to the sauce; stir to mix everything well. Serve at once.
Makes two servings.
† I purchased a cooked rotisserie chicken and cut up one breast for this dish. You could also poach or sauté a chicken breast and cut it up.
One weekday afternoon when she was free, we went to a local farmer's market held in a church parking lot. I bought a beautiful purple cauliflower, some broccoli, French breakfast radishes, and assorted greens. She went wild over the artisan cheeses and baked goods. We both bought some local honey. She had so much fun that I've convinced her to try our market at Pepper Place when it opens this summer.
On Sunday night prior to her Monday morning PET scan, she was to eat a strict no-carb diet and drink nothing but water. She ate the rest of the rotisserie chicken, a lot of broccoli with cheese melted on it (she wouldn't try the purple cauliflower), and had a slice of her artisan Gruyere for "dessert." She wasn't happy about the "water only" restriction, because she normally drinks only very sweet tea, but she did tell me with surprise that she did not feel at all deprived without bread or sweet dessert. She didn't need butter on anything to make it palatable. And her fasting blood sugar the next morning was dead normal, so all was good.
On the way back home we stopped for one restaurant meal at Cracker Barrel, which is her very favorite place to eat. And after almost two weeks of good food cooked in a healthful manner, she was astounded to find that her former favorite dish was far too salty and greasy, leaving her with an unhappy stomach for several hours as we drove.
We had one final conversation about food on that drive home. I'd been curious about her refusal to eat salads ever since the first trip to Whole Foods, when she wouldn't even look at the salad bar. "I don't eat salads, or anything green or leafy," she said firmly. When I finally got around to asking her why not, she said, "Lettuce has no taste! It's just slimy and gross in your mouth." I asked a few more questions and found out that she had never eaten any salad other than iceberg-lettuce-radish-slices-grated-carrot-with-Thousand-Island that was served in the high school lunchroom thirty years ago.
"Good grief, that's not salad," I told her. I suggested that sometime soon she find a good salad bar, one with some Romaine and arugula and Bibb and other kinds of flavorful lettuces; try a light vinaigrette instead of commercial bottled dressing; and (this was the clincher for this cheese addict) add some crumbled blue cheese on top. And she promised to try!
I know I didn't make a dent in her husband's lack of adventure, and I have to say I feel very sorry for someone who circumscribes his experience of food so severely. But perhaps I made a little difference in the way she eats -- expanded her food horizons just a little. She's discovered organic eggs, milk, cheeses, apples other than Red Delicious, and perhaps the seductive delights of a good salad. Food can taste good again, instead of something to gulp down while on the way to somewhere else. And sometimes, one step is the beginning of a delightful journey.