It’s been an interesting experience living with my boyfriend and his family. I’m having a bit of a hard time adjusting to his mother’s cooking, particularly because it’s of a different culture, Chinese.

I don’t consider myself a picky eater. Sure, I went through my phases when I was little. At one point, I wouldn’t eat spaghetti with tomato sauce, only with butter. I think I didn’t like pizza at one point either. Times sure have changed. I eat a variety of food. I’ve tried Thai, Vietnamese, Ethiopian, and Indian, and liked lots of them. However, living with it is an entirely different matter.

If anything, I’m picky about textures. I don’t like meats with a lot of fat, and I have trouble stomaching foods with textures that differ vastly from what I’m used to. I find that I begin to dread meal time, because I crave the kinds of food that I grew up with. This is also complicated by the fact that, even when I was living with my mother, mealtimes were not exactly regular. I had much more freedom about what I ate and when. Much as I hate making lunch for myself in the morning, I’m not used to having all of my meals decided for me.

I feel a little stuck in all this. I can’t tell her that I don’t want to eat her food, it’s rude. Also, while I don’t mind cooking for myself, cooking for five is an entirely different proposition, as several friends have suggested offering to cook dinner. I’m not that sure of my cooking skills. 😉 I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to eating Chinese most of the time, but I’m not sure what to do about it.

I have to wonder if it’s really possible to adapt to eating a completely different kind of food than one has eaten all their lives.

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