As the Smiths sang, Peas, Peas, Peas, let me get what I want…
lf you want, can listen to me read my essay, The Five Stages of Grief, on NPR’s The Splendid Table.
Actually, please do. Then comment on one of the letters I received after the show aired, as well as my response.* Like many authors, I love hearing from readers and value comments. I respond when I can. I would love to hear your opinions!
Hi — I love your show and am a frequent listener. Today’s story by Emily Franklin was well-written and delivered, but was a terrible tale for a show about enjoying food. In her story she referred to not wanting to be a short order cook and to there being another vegetable her son liked at the meal — isn’t it as easy to poor fewer peas in the pot and more carrots in the other, noting his love of carrots? To her son’s rescue and an end to his palate’s suffering!
And here is my response:
Thanks for listening. Part of being a lifelong food lover is the
experience of figuring out what we like. To that end, some foods need
more exposure than others. I always struggled through coconut and yet now
it is one of my favorite tastes. Food and meals are also about compromise
and gathering together, not picking out what we like. If I only give my
children food they like, how will they cope when in Morocco and presented
with a pea-based meal. Better they know how to take a taste or understand
that meals are not based entirely around their preferences. There are
many meals that Daniel plans or chooses.
And now Daniel likes snow peas. Progress.
*I’m not posting the very complimentary letters, not the sweet ones, and not the fucking whackjob crazies. People say the darndest things!