springdellgirl

The Experiment


Fifteen years ago when Tyler and I were newlyweds and living in a little apartment in Provo, I discovered that I loved to cook. I liked trying out new and interesting recipes. Tyler was very willing to taste everything I made and pronounced it all delicious with one exception. Spinach Feta Pie. When I served this up he did not look enthused and pronounced it horrible. I was crushed. This caused quite a fight and we ended up dragging our families and backgrounds into the argument. I told him that he was an uncultured Utah Valley hick who wouldn't know GOURMET food if it bit him in the butt!! I said that next time I would make sure it was slathered in Miracle Whip so that he could gag it down. He called me a snob and said that not all food that could be called gourmet tasted good and that the meal I had just made tasted like crap. I told him he could take my spinach pie and shove it up his !@# and then I threw some things. (True Story)

There is something to be said about the way Tyler and I were raised and the cuisine we grew up eating. This took us several years to work through. Tyler grew up eating a very traditional meat and potatoes diet with a Mormon cultural twist. I did not. I was wolfing down escargot, seafood, and sushi whenever I could get it. In fact, the only nights I could be sure of getting mashed potatoes with my meal was when it was meatloaf night (which I loved) and when it was...heaven forbid...liver and onions night. Ew.

The problems began early in our marriage. Do we buy Best Foods Mayo or Miracle Whip? Do we buy butter or margarine? Do we buy ranch from a bottle or make it? Do we buy skim milk or 2%? Do we buy jam or jelly? Is there ever a reason to buy Thousand Island dressing? You get the idea. We ran into a few road blocks. Tyler hated pepper and refused to eat mustard. I hate milk and I hate mayo (unless it's mixed in something) and I refuse to eat bologna (which was apparently a mainstay of his bachelor diet.)

Gradually we learned to compromise on most things and introduced each other to different aspects of our childhood cuisines. I introduced Tyler to escargot, seafood and sushi. He loved it. He introduced me to fluffy cool-whip jello "salads". (I use to term salad loosely.) Now I'm first in line at church potlucks for that green, pistachio pudding, marshmallow heaven. Yum. Tyler got me to try sauerkraut (love it) and I got him to eat pepper and mustard (now we even buy spicy grainy mustard and he loves cayenne). He got me to drink eggnog...something I swore I never would... Eggy milk? How could that be good? Yet I love it!! The list goes on and on.

As the years have passed our tastes have changed and we've adapted more to one another. And as the years have passed that stupid spinach feta pie would keep coming up. If the kids would say "Dad...you're so lucky mom is a good cook. Has she ever made anything that you thought was gross?" He brought up the spinach feta pie. When people would say how wonderful it was that Tyler would eat anything and wasn't a picky eater I would bring up the spinach feta pie. About a year ago I said to him that I bet if I made that pie now he would LOVE IT. He said he doubted it.

We have evolved as far as food goes but we still have our quirks. Such as Tyler PREFERS margarine to butter? How is that possible? He LIKES diet drinks. He eats vile concoctions that come straight from Utah Valley like mushed up bread in a bowl covered with milk that he eats with a spoon like cereal. OH MY GOSH. Thank goodness he does that for his midnight snack and I don't have to witness it. At least he doesn't put ketchup on his tacos like many other Utahns do. Gag. He still loves bologna and nasty Vienna sausages (I buy him this crap once a year for his birthday.) He still often thinks things I make are "too peppery" and he is always surprised that jalapenos from a can are hot. The worst offender...He guzzles milk...I forbid him to kiss me with a milk mouth. He gets great pleasure chasing me around after drinking milk.

I have my quirks too that drive him nuts. I REFUSE to eat sandwich if mayo has touched it. I always order sandwiches and hamburgers without mayo. You don't even want to know how many things Tyler has had to return. This makes him CRAZY!! I also don't like drinking a beverage from a can/bottle/restaurant glass without a straw. 15 years later and he still acts surprised when I make him go back for a straw. (Blame my family for that one.) I can't abide a raisin in anything. I will not eat ranch dressing from a bottle. SO GROSS. And...although he swears they are delicious...I have yet to try a beet. And the mother of all quirks...I hate toast. Truly. The smell of it makes me gag. We don't own a toaster for this very reason.

So last night I decided to try my little experiment. Tyler, over the years, has become quite the gourmand. He is even...much to my utter delight...losing his love of processed foods. He now claims he can taste the chemicals in the food like I have been saying for years. So I cheffed up the spinach feta pie. Guess what? HE LOVED IT! Of course he tried to claim that it wasn't the same recipe...which it was. He tried to claim that I didn't top it with Parmesan cheese the first time I made it...which I did. He tried to claim that I "spiced" it up. That may be partly true. I upped the garlic and lemon. But it was still essentially the same. He ate two helpings. HA!!

Vindication is mine!!

(Even 15 years later the victory is...oh...so...sweet!!)