From The Pickiest Eater To Full-On Foodie

My diet mainly consisted of plain turkey sandwiches until I graduated high school.

No mayo. No mustard. No tomato. That bread better have been processed as hell and God forbid there was anything green on there.

It was bleak y’all.

But, there was a turning point in my life that transformed my sad lil' palette from beige and bland to the “I'll try anything” foodie that I am today.

At 16 I was accepted into a youth ambassador program where I was lucky enough to travel abroad for the first time. My chicken tender loving ass got to visit the three major heavy hitters of the culinary world: Italy, France, and Spain.

First stop, Rome.

Our American teenage gaggle piled off the tour bus down a glowing alleyway, past all the beautiful Romans smoking by their Vespas. We were herded inside this cozy, stone building where my Pizza Hut palette was put to shame. This family-run restaurant served the best pizza I’ve ever had, even to this day. All bubbly, and charry, and so simple. Italy was easing me in, pizza was one of the few items on my short list of likes.

Then, dessert arrived….flan. And just like that, I was out of my teeny tiny comfort zone.

Thankfully, my deeply instilled Southern manners prevented me from pushing it away in total disgust. I smooshed the flan around the plate attempting to hide it under my uneaten pizza crust. I tried pawning it off on the other kids. Nothing worked.

Around the fourth time I was served flan on the trip, I figured this wiggly thing wasn’t going away. So, I finally gave in and took a bite. While I wasn't 100% enthused, I was pleasantly surprised that it wasn't the squid-like consistency I was for some reason expecting.

Not a “Eureka” moment by any means, but somehow, that fairly meh food memory with that fourth flan was a real turning point for me, opening me up to an entirely new world to discover- a world of flavor.

But, baby steps guys. Because you better believe that the first chance I got, I convinced my roommate to sneak out with me across the piazza for a Smirnoff and McDonalds. *Chef’s Kiss*

I kept opening up as the trip went on though. My first non-pillsbury doughboy croissant fully blew my mind. I tried stinky cheeses and all the cured meats, espresso, anchovies, and seafood paella with lots of little tentacles.

Despite the fact that I was just eating universally delicious things, my sheltered 16 year old self felt like such an adventurer!

My food language continued to grow as I worked in all kinds of restaurants in college and for a few years after. I took cooking classes, traveled as much as possible, and tasted more and more.

But, that first trip, that fourth flan marks the beginning of it all, sending me on a deliciously rewarding and ongoing exploration into the big, beautiful culinary world.

The discovery of a new dish does more for the happiness of man than the discovery of a new star.”

Brillat Savarin

Any other converted picky eaters out there? Share some of your fave recipes and food memories with me, I’d love to drool with you!

Mangiamo y’all <3

Cait