Meet the Contestant: Me

Every kid has had food aversions, but I, Aram Nazarian, was a zealot. One might think my ethnic name might make me more open-minded toward culturally diverse recipes. I confess non-compliance with that assumption. No amount of persuasion, monetary or otherwise, could sway me in my deep-rooted hatred for certain foods. It’s not like my mom didn’t try. If she found something to be healthy, she could not imagine my growing body being deprived of essential nourishment. I was on to her, though. From slipping frozen spinach into chocolate cake (What was she thinking?!) to baking healthy muffins and calling them, “cupcakes,” she was just as stubborn as I was in this battle of the wills. Her strategy changed course when, one day, she just stopped trying. I sniffed at the spaghetti noodles on my plate. They weren’t green, so they couldn’t be spinach pasta. I scrutinized the sauce, looking for any trace of zucchini peel or shredded carrots. This went on with every meal. I began to relax at meal time. I let my guard down. Then, after a few weeks, *bam* she hit me with tofu in my beloved meatloaf. I called her on this tactic. She confessed, but added that she had hoped my taste buds would have matured with time, or at least, I would have forgotten my disdain for foods I loathed. I have since felt some degree of guilt when I sensed I disappointed my own mother. And for this, I have taken on three foods I have avoided since childhood. As an enlightened and mature freshman college student, I have decided, nay, vowed, to bring some element of joy to my exhausted mother by taking on those foods that were about as appealing to me as that computer engineering midterm that I took just yesterday.

I want to be able to prove to myself and every picky six year-old out there who hates that green, textured, slimy, strange, bitter, leafy …where was I? Oh. I want to be able to prove to myself and every other kid out there that hating a food is simply immature, and maybe it was not worth making such a big deal about it all those years. In being open-minded, I can actually overcome a “fear” and quite possibly at the same time, amuse my mom by my personal challenge. Having often watched “Fear Factor” as a kid, I decided it might make things more exciting if I turned this personal quest into more of a series of challenges; each challenge centering around a food. I guess you could call this blog, the next big thing since “Fear Factor” and the “Iron Chef.” Here are the rules for “Fear Factor: Aram Chef.”

1. Chef Nazarian must eat at least five dishes, each of which must include one of the three special ingredients.

2. Chef Nazarian must be involved in selecting two dishes and in the preparation of at least these two.

3. Two guest judges must be involved in sampling each dish Chef Nazarian must conquer, in order to ensure that the dishes are deemed delicious by unbiased palates, and cannot be accused of being prepared poorly  just because of his aversion to the target ingredient.

4. Each special ingredient must be the primary food in the dish for which it is intended.  

5. Only two dishes are allowed to contain some form of pasta.

            I have never been that great of a cook. Sure, I’ve helped my mom in the kitchen on occasion, but if you were to ask me to make something that is, by her definition, considered a ‘simple dinner,” I would be lost. I guess I’ve picked up on a few of her tips and tricks along the way, and because of her, I know how to boil and toast. In fact, if I were to open a restaurant, the menu with consist of hot dogs, spaghetti with marinara sauce (egg noodles with ketchup), and paninis. That’s why I’ve decided that I’ll be enlisting the help of my friends as I set forth on this endeavor. My roommate is a pretty good cook, so I plan to use him as a co-chef.  It takes me all of 14 seconds to come up with a list of special ingredients that have been known to be traumatic in my life; in other words, make me run in the opposite direction. Among these, I have narrowed down my selection to the following three.

1)  Spinach. Spinach must be something a lot of kids have found unpleasant, given the need for Popeye and his can of the superfood. If they need a cartoon character to convince kids to eat spinach, then that should be a clue that we’re dealing with some pretty nasty stuff. I had a cousin who loved spinach, because his mom showed him old Popeye videos. Boy, was he dumb. How could a tin can leaching lead and other toxins into slimy green stuff make anyone strong enough to lift ships out of the water? My first memory of spinach dates back to when I was six. I remember it like it was yesterday. My mom forced me (it was the stern do-this-or-you-will-get-a-timeout look) to try a spoonful. I smelled it before it even got close to my face. I sensed it would not be a favorite when I discovered that it smelled like the sandbox at school after Timothy peed in it. I ran before the goop hit my sealed lips, and since then, the sight of it triggers a gag reflex.

2)  Brussels Sprouts. My mom called them baby cabbages, as if eating infant versions made anything taste better. I remember Grandpa George in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory sorrowfully reflecting, “I feel like I’ve eaten nothing but cabbage soup forever.” This conjures up such a pathetic visual. Who would actually choose to eat boiled cabbages of any size, when there were so many other delicious foods one could serve on a plate? Charlie’s grandmother boiled laundry for a living, which probably had killed her sense of stink, because had she known how toxic boiling cruciferous vegetables smelled to her family, she may have cooked them up something more palatable, like deep-fried cow tongue or sautéed sheep brain.  

3)  Tofu. It sounds like a martial art more than something you are supposed to eat. This is basically an over- processed bean that was more fun to eat in its original state. What kid doesn’t like picking out soy beans from a pod? It took skilled fingers to clean out enough pods to fill up the tummy of a four year-old, but mastering the fine art was well worth the training. With such a perfect food, whose bright idea was it to process it into a gelatinous blob, void of flavor or texture? I remember looking at tofu for the first time, and asking my dad what it was. “Bean curd,” he dryly replied. As if that would win me over. And, that is why whenever I sit down with a bowl of miso soup, in the end, all that is left is a mound of mushy bean curd at the bottom.

I am rather embarrassed to admit that there are several foods that could justifiably be added to my short list of special ingredients. For example, kale could easily be a fourth; specifically dinosaur kale. I was manipulated into eating (raw) broccoli when I was told I could be a dinosaur and pretend broccoli florets were trees; perhaps that is why I find eating dinosaur kale to be somewhat cannibalistic. Upon a bit of deliberation, I feel that conquering my three carefully selected items can fix so many problems for me. Spinach and tofu seem to be omnipresent in this heavily Asian-populated part of the country, and frankly, unless I am prepared to starve when my friends all vote for a Chinese, Japanese, or Indian restaurant, avoiding either of these items is more than an inconvenience. There is also the issue of social awkwardness when I avoid eye contact with a server or busboy who picks up my bowl of miso soup or vegetable stir fry. Too often, I can sense judgment when he or she sees evidence of rejected tofu or spinach being cleared from the table. I hate the feeling of watching the waiter or waitress pick up my bowl or  plate, with all the leftover tofu or spinach intact. My aversion to spinach has been a handicap. It has kept me from trying so many different kinds of sandwiches, pizzas, and salads, that would be otherwise quite appealing. If I were able to get around the taste of spinach, it would open up a whole new gourmet world for me. There is also a serious scientific and social component to my experiment. While this challenge does help me solve my restaurant problems, I am genuinely interested in problems regarding food aversion and malnutrition, so I will be sure to incorporate studies, articles, and even the experiences of other people. Perhaps this research can reveal why we like (or dislike) particular foods, and the health risks that may be related to this. For example, I found it particularly fascinating when I recently read a study by Yale University’s Dana Small, who discovered, “when you ingest something small, all these hormones are released. Your blood glucose changes, you've all these metabolic effects that are critical for changing the brain's representation of flavour. If you experience a novel flavour and experience positive post-ingestive effects, then the next time you ingest that flavour you'll find it better and will be more likely to eat more of it."

            I have been known my whole life as the “picky eater” in my family. Whenever spinach is brought up in conversation, or worse, served in or on a dish, my older brother is the first to announce with a wink to everyone seated at the table that “Aram is allergic.”  I hope that by the end of this challenge, I will be able to take a forkful of spinach, and eat it front of him as he watches in disbelief. If I am able to get over the odor, taste, and texture, I promise to do this in front of my brother while he is secretly videotaped and included in this blog.

Stay tuned for another adventurous episode of “Fear Factor: Aram.”  Next week, Chef Aram will battle it out with the worst of the special ingredients: Spinach! Will he survive to even be able to blog about it? Or, will he accept defeat and hang his head in shame?  Keep your finger on that refresh button if you want to find out!

Works Cited

Fleming, Amy. "Food Aversions: Why They Occur and How You Can Tackle Them." Theguardian.com. Guardian News and Media, 18 June 2013. Web. 15 Apr. 2014.