Fussy Eater

It's that time of year again, Dear Reader, when Your Correspondent takes great delight in turning the season's Ye Olde Kumquats, Fortunella margarita by preference, into these orange-gold, vanilla-laced, syrupy treats below. And it's not via the alchemy of the jar of dried calendula infusing in olive oil - that oil will be destined for my next batch of cold-processed soap. The trio were merely rubbing shoulders on the sunny windowsill this morning and caught the light so fetchingly for me.

Before & After

Unbelievably, these are the very tail end of last year's batch. It's not that I'm a particularly everything-in-moderation kind of eater; it's more the case that FOMO (fear-of-missing-out) strikes me keenly, so I do tend to ration things accordingly, thus I can eke out treasures until a replacement is in sight.

It was not always thus for Olde Pipistrello to be loving these citrus bliss balls (not rationing my superlatives, however!). For although I would eat basically anything put before me as a child, I did have a small but closely monitored list of foods abhorred, viz.: fruit peel, kidneys, oysters and capers.

Sadly, it was my dear Nanna that was to be held responsible for the first two. Her home-made Hot Cross Buns and Christmas Cake & Pudding would be chock-full of supermarket-sourced fruit peel (plus the Pud' was made more alarming by the pallid floury skin from its hanging in the laundry for weeks). No amount of smothering in custard or lashings of butter could induce me to choke down the peel. Much like a pet refusing to swallow a pill, I could magically spit out the horrid nuggets after valiantly chewing for an age around the otherwise edible bits.*

Albert, the Magic Pudding - Much coveted by puddin'-thieves
Illustration: Norman Lindsay, 1918
Image: via The Guardian

Nanna's steak & kidney stews and pies beheld a similar, sorry story. A very slow meal was to be had from taking small mouthfuls, but at least the kidneys' tell-tale ammonia tang would alert you to their near vicinity on the fork, so it was very hard to actually pop an offending item into your mouth.

A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk, along the briny beach
The Walrus and the Carpenter survey their Obliging Lunch
Image: via Wikimedia Commons

As to oysters, they were very often to be found on the table as we would regularly holiday by the sea, but in truth I suspect I never tried them. It was probably a visual thing, initially, but oysters appear fairly regularly on the Watch List of many an immature palate, so I was in good company there.

Capers bedeck the bougainvillea in Antiparos last year
Photo: Flying With Hands

Potted delicacy in the Cyclades
All edible: capers, caperberries and leaves
Photo: Flying With Hands

But capers? I'm not sure where I encountered them but I can only guess they were added to the list as I thought that it just looked a little lacking. I had to get creative while comparing notes in the playground, for some playmates would airily declare the entire class of Vegetables as Verboten on their plates. Or would only eat White Things. You get the drift. It was tough trying to keep up when your favourite vegetable was and is the Brussels Sprout.

But with Age comes Wisdom, even in regard to the Palate. If I could, I would add capers to every dish these days. Salted or pickled. Both live companionably in our fridge. And on our Greek Odyssey last year, the Lovely L and I enjoyed capers galore, alongside the caperberries and leaves.

Citrus peel, too,  is no longer to be feared (except for the commercial variety which is just plain Nasty) and I do make all manner of goodies with it with my own grubby mitts.

Snacks for Later, or
Still life with imaginary view, c1645-50
Laurens Craen, AGNSW
Photo: Flying With Hands

Oysters were finally revealed to me in all their Briny Glory in my 20's when I holidayed in Scotland with a friend and are a special favourite now. I'm, ahem, fortunate I don't have to share my regular platter with Mr P. as he cannot abide them - although he will shuck them for me as an act of Chivalry!

Kidneys? Well, I have to have something up my sleeve to keep my credential as a Fussy Eater!


* The tough, floury cross on the Hot Cross Buns was likened to another imposed penance and would get picked off, notwithstanding Nanna's stern gaze, she of the waste-not-Depression-era Generation.