The fiance and I just spent 9.5 days hosting his mother for the Thanksgiving holiday. She's a lovely woman, but 9.5 days is a long time to host anyone in your home, and she's a very picky eater. I began dreading meal time. We defaulted to take out a few times, and it seemed like just about every meal was loaded with carbs. I love carbs. LOVE THEM! But they do not love me - especially my waist.
I had lost 30 pounds. I think I've gained back 5 in 9.5 days. =P UG. Guess it's time to start running after that Weight Watchers Bandwagon. I could use the extra exercise anyway.
Back to the pickiness. I made minute steaks one night. Simple, easy, nearly fool proof right? Wrong. Apparently, one half of the the dynamic duo of basic kitchen seasons, the Wonder Twins that are used in every savory offering is practically poison to my future Mother In Law - pepper. Like any good cook (I dare not call myself "chef" for fear than Anthony Bourdain reigns terror upon my lowly head), I seasoned the steaks with kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper. I seared the steaks on each side, watching for that perfect balance between tasty brown bits (a very technical term) and over doneness. As I sat down next to my FMIL, I noticed her fussing over her plate. She was PICKING OFF THE PEPPER!!!! "I hate pepper. I can't stand it. It's disgusting."
I was crushed. And then I almost immediately become resentful. She was a guest in my home refusing the hospitality I was offering her. I had already planned a lot of the big Thanksgiving Day meal around her preferences to make sure she could eat most of the dishes. And I was getting really tired of hearing "Oh I don't like _____." I wanted to yell "Have you even tried it? When was the last time you tried something new?"
She didn't try the green beans I made (with shallots, balsamic and roasted hazel nuts! Yum!).
Though I really wanted a pumpkin pie, my mother graciously made an apply pie since that's was FMIL preferred.
Her own son made a lovely gazpacho for a soup course - she made tacky comments as he prepared it "How can you eat that?! I can't believe you're putting cucumbers in there!"
When our chicken sandwiches from McD's got mixed up, she wrinkled her nose and said "Ew! Pickles!" and started pouting until I pointed out that our sandwiches had been mixed, and a simple swap would solve that (then she pouted that her sandwich was on a whole wheat bun - like whole grains would someone how damage her).
I felt like anything green and nutritious had been temporarily exiled from my kitchen and, by extension, my plate.
I'm really looking forward to a veggie fest this evening. I NEED GREEN!
It didn't help that it seemed that all she could talk about was her daughter. If she complaining about her, she was comparing me to her. It's no secret that I can't stand my fiance's sister. It's also no secret that she doesn't like me. Last night, as I was putting little dollops of whipped cream on my ice cream sammich with each bite, FMIL said "Oh! K does that too!", I really wanted to blurt out "Please don't compare me to her!!!"
But I remained silent and silently repeated in my head, "I love my MIL. I love my MIL. The visit is nearly over. Nearly over. Think of all the lovely veggies! Broccoli! Cauliflower! Squash! Butternut! Onions! Tofu! Edamame! Yum yum yum yum."
I need a vacation.
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