As a child, I wanted nothing more than to be ‘normal.’ What is normal? Well, to a small girl who looked different from all of her classmates, it was what she read in books. Macaroni and cheese, spaghetti and meatballs, sandwiches, normal – boring. I loved vegetables, I loved broccoli, I didn’t understand how it was possible or why anyone would dislike these things. They taste good. What was there to hate?
I must have driven my mother crazy as a child with my absurd requests. Every day, she would make dinner for a family of five, and we would sit down together and eat. This might sound amazing to you – and I’m sure that one day, when I have a family of my own, I will find it amazing as well – but to us, it was standard procedure. Each day, she’d make rice, vegetables, meat, whatever it was, and I would sullenly request spaghetti or mashed potatoes or anything, anything but rice. I wanted anything, anything but rice. I hated rice. (I’m still not that fond of it.)
At some point, I must have read a book that mentioned a Christmas ham. I became obsessed with Christmas ham. I wanted Christmas ham. I wanted Christmas ham, I wanted ham, I wanted ham, I wanted ham for Christmas.
My father, bless his indulgent heart, caved in one year. I must have been about eight years old, and as headstrong as he, of course his favorite.
Did I mention that on Christmas, my parents unwaveringly served lobster and steak? Imagine how frustrating it was to work your ass off all your life, trying to provide for your children the best you could afford, better than you had as a child, and the youngest one begs for ham. Ham. Of all things, I begged for ham.
I don’t remember a single thing about Christmas that year, except being seated at the table and everyone with their steaks plated… and my plate appearing in front of me. On our standard 10” dinner plates with the little Dutch people… except you couldn’t see the Dutch people. Not an arm, not a foot, not a scrap of hair.
My entire plate was covered in a big pink slab of ham steak.
My eyes grew wide as saucers, and I stared at it. I do recall eating it, or trying valiantly, and probably getting through maybe a fourth of it.
Sure I was happy that I’d been able to try it, but I’d go back to steak and lobster, thankyouverymuch.
You’d think the story ends there, except that I quite foolishly forgot to inform my parents of that decision. And so it was the next year, I found myself with yet another ham steak that I simply poked at before filling up on side dishes.
And promptly forgot to tell my parents again that year to please no longer buy ham steaks.
This went on for a few years – no more than five, total, but more than two, certainly – until one year, I simply freaked out when the ham steak appeared. I screamed, “NO! NO! NO! NO MORE HAM STEAK! I DON’T LIKE IT! I DON’T WANT IT! I WON’T EAT IT!”
My mother silently removed the plate from in front of me, and my father grumpily stated that we would no longer have steak and lobster for dinner on Christmas anymore.
I’d ruined it for everyone.
(I think we started eating only lobster for Christmas after that.)
And yes, I still don’t like ham all that much… especially ham steak.
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I am fully aware that this story illustrates beautifully just how bratty I am, and how my parents indulged my whimsy as a child.
Eva says
Oh gosh, I loved this post!!! I felt like I was right there with you !
Feisty Foodie says
Thanks Eva! 🙂
Katie | Healthnut Foodie says
Okay, this post made me literally laugh out loud! We are a total foodie family. My four-year-old will willingly devour anything we create. BUT, my three-year-old would be happy as a clam eating steak, broccoli, kale, and macaroni & cheese (from a box) every meal of everyday. At some point, she will be the one demanding a ham steak.
Feisty Foodie says
I hope when that happens, you think of this post and are able to laugh about it! My mom told me many times over the years just how much pain I will go through when I have kids, because what goes around comes around, hahaha!
Chewthefat says
I hate ham. Always hated it, even as a kid, and the sight of ham with fruit particularly gives me the willies. I wasn’t of a different race than my classmates, but I always felt abnormal and often used food to ‘fit in’–I would demand a food I had read about in a children’s book like you. And sometimes–with me, it was hard-boiled eggs, lettuce and tomato sandwiches, and spaghetti on various occasions–I had the exact same reaction as you.
Feisty Foodie says
Hahaha! I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who isn’t all that fond of ham. I have another reason (which I’ll reveal in the next installment in this series!) that adds to my feelings, but people always seem shocked when I mention how I dislike ham. It’s specifically hamsteak that really bothers me, though I’m not all that fond of ham overall, but yes, exactly. And to the feeling-abnormal thing – again, yes, EXACTLY. Some way to fit in! I must say, I’ve always felt that food is the great equalizer – we all must eat! – but there seems to be so many who strive to make it a more exclusive club than it should ever be. Beh, that’s another discussion for another day.
Aimee says
I love it.
Feisty Foodie says
Thanks, Aimee!
Livia says
I read you and awash with joy.
Livia says
I sorta typod! Please change to:
I read you and I am awash with joy.
Thank you.
hungry says
My mom was very in tune about fitting in so she always sent me to school with sandwiches as my lunch instead of food that kids would laugh at me for.
Also, have you ever had real ham? Not the stuff from a supermarket, but a smoke ham from a butcher that needs to be roasted in the oven for hours. Totally different taste, smell, and texture. If you haven’t, taste it. I’ll be making it for Thanksgiving this year along with my turkey. I was THAT impressed by it.
Feisty Foodie says
I got sandwiches… sometimes with “yuk sung” / pork floss as the meat though… hahaha!
As for real ham… I’ll have to fill in that detail but wait till you read next week’s installment… it’s a doozy. And it involves real ham. Sigh.
Kevin says
I literally laughed out loud.
I love what you’re doing with your blog. Keep it up!
Feisty Foodie says
Thanks, Kevin!
T.C. says
Steak cannot be beat by ham. ;P Though the cows would be happier.
Feisty Foodie says
This is like that bad Chik-Fil-A commercial…
Fred says
so when did I become your boyfriend?
I’m certain I’d normally remember something like that, so I must have been run over by a car or something like that shortly after the news was broken to me. I don’t remember this either, though.
and since I’m your boyfriend now, surely you will clue me in on what FBM stands for, at long last 🙂
Feisty Foodie says
My mom asked me about you yesterday. She said “I thought your boyfriend’s name was -, not Fred” and I was very confused until she explained she saw this comment.
Fred says
still….there is/was a comment in the MLHH forum thread where you claimed me as your beau…..that (and the current non-functional state of the ML forums) is what led me to post here
Has someone hacked your ML HH account, then?
Fred says
So did you see the MTL HH comment in question?
http://midtownlunch.com/forums/topic/august-happy-hour-2#post-28732
Fred says
so thats a no?
Fred says
Yvo?
Fred says
Yvo??
Fred says
Well, sorry – just trying to figure out what happened there.
I know it was either a joke (by you) or a hack (by an unknown 3rd party), and wanted to figure out which it was