If anyone knows me, they would know that I love eating hence the reason why I am plump. Eating has always been my favourite pass time. If I have the time and sufficient expenses to spare, I indulge in occasional fine dining. Yet there was a time that I refuse to eat. Surprise? This essay will be on how I developed my eating habits.
When I was around six years old, my parents realized I had a difficulty in eating. I refused to have lunch or dinner. Even during breakfast time, I would try to hide my bread or throw it away. Whenever I was caught red-handed, they would either scold or cane me.
However, it came to a point that they realized that I had an eating problem. Therefore they made an appointment for me to meet with a psychiatrist to solve my problem. On the day of the appointment, they did not tell me that they were going to bring me to see a psychiatrist. One reason is that I was always afraid of hospitals. I viewed them as morbid institutions associated with death and sufferings.
After I was aware where I was going. I started crying and began to throw tantrums in the car. My dad shouted at me and at once I kept quiet. We walked silently towards the psychiatric clinic. In the meantime, my imagination was going wild. I thought my parents were going to abandon me. Tears flowed down but my mother comforted me and wiped away my tears. Somehow I always felt safe in my mother’s arms. I did not like the psychiatrist. He looked very stern. He is someone who you would not want to meet in a dark alley.
The psychiatrist just wished me good morning and told me to follow him. I looked at him in a daze. I refused to move an inch. My parents decided to follow me. I walked very slowly with my parents beside me. I felt like a condemned man meeting his end. The psychiatrist brought me to a children’s ward. The children looked very under nourished, like they were from some refugee camp. I was shivering with fear. The psychiatrist then spoke. I said to myself “Oh WOW!!! He could speak!!!!”. He told me that if I continued not to eat my meals I would have to stay in the ward for sometime. At once the thought of staying in this ward scared the hell out of me. I told my parents that I would start eating. This was the define moment that started my love for food.
I went home and started eating my meals. However, the meals that I ate were hawker food and I began to love them!! My parents thought that I would love eating hawker food like hokkien mee, fried kway teow, chicken rice, kway chap, fried rice and etc. They were not wrong. I grew very fond of this kind of food. My weight started to increase. My mother use to take me to hawker centres to eat hokkien mee and kway chap. These dishes were her favourite as well. My dad took me out to eat wanton mee, fried kway teow and chicken rice mostly. My dad and I also started an eating competition whereby we would see who could eat the most food. My mom did not like the idea and always chided my dad for initiating the competition. Therefore, everytime I went out with him I ended up eating more then one kind of food. However, there were consequences.
As one problem was solved, another one was created. I began to dislike eating home cook food. I only liked hawker food. Even at weddings or parties, I did not like to eat the food that was prepared. I began to reject the food my mother was cooking also. Some of you may be surprised that I would reject my mother’s cooking as my mother is rather known to be a good cook herself. To rectify the problem, I was prohibited from eating hawker food for two months. I hated it. I would sulk during lunch and dinner. The only thing that made me eat the food was the fear of being caned. Gradually I began to like home cook food and started to appreciate it. My parents were delighted and my mother always made a point to cook the food that I like.
I am going to side track a bit and write about how I got to like durians. At first, I hated them because of their smell. However, one fine day in Malacca, my dad forced me to eat a durian seed. Up till today, he considered what he did as one of his biggest mistake in life. Why? Well because I got to like it so much that at every durian season I would demand for durians.
My appetite kept on improving but I still stayed away from fast food as I only liked to eat Chinese hawker food. I only began eating fast food when I was in secondary one. I presumed I was getting more matured and was getting less fussy with food. As time went on, I became more adventurous in trying various kinds of food. I began to look forward towards going out with friends and relatives to try various kinds of food cuisines. For example, I love going to out to eat seafood with my food eating kakis. One of the best seafood restaurant I have been is Jumbo and for western food Morton’s gets my vote.
My favourite food cuisines are Chinese, French, Japanese, Indonesian, Korean, Indian, Eurasian and Brazilian. I will give a write up on the various kinds of restaurants I have visited and the various kinds of food that they serve in my next post. I do not intend to give my food tasting adventurous so for the meantime to all food lovers out there, be merry and keep on eating. Of course look after your health and weight also. Pot calling the kettle black.
When I was around six years old, my parents realized I had a difficulty in eating. I refused to have lunch or dinner. Even during breakfast time, I would try to hide my bread or throw it away. Whenever I was caught red-handed, they would either scold or cane me.
However, it came to a point that they realized that I had an eating problem. Therefore they made an appointment for me to meet with a psychiatrist to solve my problem. On the day of the appointment, they did not tell me that they were going to bring me to see a psychiatrist. One reason is that I was always afraid of hospitals. I viewed them as morbid institutions associated with death and sufferings.
After I was aware where I was going. I started crying and began to throw tantrums in the car. My dad shouted at me and at once I kept quiet. We walked silently towards the psychiatric clinic. In the meantime, my imagination was going wild. I thought my parents were going to abandon me. Tears flowed down but my mother comforted me and wiped away my tears. Somehow I always felt safe in my mother’s arms. I did not like the psychiatrist. He looked very stern. He is someone who you would not want to meet in a dark alley.
The psychiatrist just wished me good morning and told me to follow him. I looked at him in a daze. I refused to move an inch. My parents decided to follow me. I walked very slowly with my parents beside me. I felt like a condemned man meeting his end. The psychiatrist brought me to a children’s ward. The children looked very under nourished, like they were from some refugee camp. I was shivering with fear. The psychiatrist then spoke. I said to myself “Oh WOW!!! He could speak!!!!”. He told me that if I continued not to eat my meals I would have to stay in the ward for sometime. At once the thought of staying in this ward scared the hell out of me. I told my parents that I would start eating. This was the define moment that started my love for food.
I went home and started eating my meals. However, the meals that I ate were hawker food and I began to love them!! My parents thought that I would love eating hawker food like hokkien mee, fried kway teow, chicken rice, kway chap, fried rice and etc. They were not wrong. I grew very fond of this kind of food. My weight started to increase. My mother use to take me to hawker centres to eat hokkien mee and kway chap. These dishes were her favourite as well. My dad took me out to eat wanton mee, fried kway teow and chicken rice mostly. My dad and I also started an eating competition whereby we would see who could eat the most food. My mom did not like the idea and always chided my dad for initiating the competition. Therefore, everytime I went out with him I ended up eating more then one kind of food. However, there were consequences.
As one problem was solved, another one was created. I began to dislike eating home cook food. I only liked hawker food. Even at weddings or parties, I did not like to eat the food that was prepared. I began to reject the food my mother was cooking also. Some of you may be surprised that I would reject my mother’s cooking as my mother is rather known to be a good cook herself. To rectify the problem, I was prohibited from eating hawker food for two months. I hated it. I would sulk during lunch and dinner. The only thing that made me eat the food was the fear of being caned. Gradually I began to like home cook food and started to appreciate it. My parents were delighted and my mother always made a point to cook the food that I like.
I am going to side track a bit and write about how I got to like durians. At first, I hated them because of their smell. However, one fine day in Malacca, my dad forced me to eat a durian seed. Up till today, he considered what he did as one of his biggest mistake in life. Why? Well because I got to like it so much that at every durian season I would demand for durians.
My appetite kept on improving but I still stayed away from fast food as I only liked to eat Chinese hawker food. I only began eating fast food when I was in secondary one. I presumed I was getting more matured and was getting less fussy with food. As time went on, I became more adventurous in trying various kinds of food. I began to look forward towards going out with friends and relatives to try various kinds of food cuisines. For example, I love going to out to eat seafood with my food eating kakis. One of the best seafood restaurant I have been is Jumbo and for western food Morton’s gets my vote.
My favourite food cuisines are Chinese, French, Japanese, Indonesian, Korean, Indian, Eurasian and Brazilian. I will give a write up on the various kinds of restaurants I have visited and the various kinds of food that they serve in my next post. I do not intend to give my food tasting adventurous so for the meantime to all food lovers out there, be merry and keep on eating. Of course look after your health and weight also. Pot calling the kettle black.
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