Facing my Food Fears

I’m fairly new at this “livin’ it up in my 20’s” thing so I figured I would take a leap of faith and try some things that would scare me. Also, what place better to face my fears than Italy? So, you’re probably thinking that I went sky diving, swam with sharks, and jumped off a cliff in the Mediterranean. Well, trust me, what I did was just as scary.

I ate a tomato. (Amongst other things.)

Now listen, ever since I can remember, tomatoes have been the bane of my existence. I know this sounds a little ridiculous, but it’s true. I am the definition of a picky eater. So, my goal for my visit to Italy was to give my palate another chance and expose it to foods like they were its long-lost cousin.

Here we go.

 

Tomatoes

I’m not going to get into the gory details of my hate-hate relationship with tomatoes, but our interactions in the past have not been pleasant. Long story short, I tried multiple in Italy, and I survived. (Here’s picture evidence to prove it.)

A tomato’s flavor depends on where the tomato comes from. For example, I tried one that was very sweet and I think I actually enjoyed its presence in my mouth for a second. After this initial experience, I tried others, for example, the caprese salad we made in our little apartment had more of a savory flavor. I think since I had so many dreadful experiences in my past, I trained myself to hate the taste of fresh tomatoes. This was a habit that needed to stop immediately. And there you have it. Italy had proved me wrong for the first time.

 

Truffles

A few years ago, I went to an olive oil/balsamic store with my mom and after trying what felt like a thousand savory oils and fruity balsamics, my mom exclaimed she needed to try just this one more oil. The label read “truffle.” YES! I love chocolate. Especially the caramel truffles. Long story short, I quickly learned that there are multiple types of truffles. And one tasted like dirt.

In Florence, we had an olive oil, balsamic vinegar, cheese, and wine tasting at this little shop called Conti in the Mercato Centrale di San Lorenzo. Towards the end of the tasting, Yvonne, the owner, had a white truffle butter for us to try. I had handed the two previous truffle-related crostini to my professor. However, she said this one tasted like cream cheese so I decided to go for it. While I still could taste a hint of that truffly fungi that had haunted my past, I didn’t mind it this time. It tasted more like mascarpone cheese than anything else to me. It was flavorful, creamy, and extremely satisfying. The hint of mushrooms was actually a nice complement to the crostini. Dirt can, believe it or not, taste good sometimes.

 

Red Wine

Like any good mom, mine let me dip my fingers into her glass of red wine to have a taste. Like any kid obsessed with sugary drinks, I found it repulsive. Even just a day before this trip, I had a sip and was still disgusted by the bitterness. I had never come across a type that I could tolerate, so I figured that red wine just wasn’t for me.

During the same tasting at Conti, after drinking a glass of prosecco, Yvonne poured us a glass of Vino Frizzante Dolce. In other words, sweet, sparkly, red, bubbly goodness. It was phenomenal and everyone loved it. It was the complete opposite of any other red wine I’d tasted. This opened my eyes to the true range of a food group. I loved that wine but still am not a fan of others, which I’m slowly learning is okay. I can’t say I like all red wine, but I can definitely say I found one that fits my fancy.

This lesson goes way beyond food.

One of the most important things I took away from this trip is that it’s impossible to have a concrete opinion on something unless you know it inside and out. You can’t say you hate something unless you’ve tried all its varieties. I was ignorant to say that I hate tomatoes, truffles, and red wine.

It took me travelling halfway across the world to gain the courage to finally give them another chance, and as we leave Italy, I can say that I’m thankful I did.