Sally Bodie, an archivist at the Smithsonian, won't eat animals that
have appeared in Walt Disney movies. An Ithaca, N.Y., woman reportedly
doesn't eat gherkin pickles because they remind her of baby alligators.
Once a week for the past 15 years, local communications attorney Ron
Siegel has eaten an entire peking duck, usually triggered by "a little
duck image" that appears in his head while driving home from work.
Colleagues have affectionately dubbed a Washington trade association
official's method of eating Peanut M&M's as "weird." Explains the
official: "I bite it gently in the middle, eat half the chocolate
coating, expose half the peanut. I grasp the peanut firmly with my
teeth, eat the peanut, then the other half of the chocolate. I thereby
get three bites out of every Peanut M&M. It takes me a week to eat a
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Whether you think these habits sound normal, funny or simply
strange, everyone has at least one food fetish -- that vehement devotion
or aversion to a particular food or food combination, an offbeat method
of eating, or an unusual time, situation or place for doing so.
These aren't the kinds of quirks that should drive anyone to
psychotic despair. "Most of these things are within the range of normal
behavior," says Lawrence Balter, professor of educational psychology at
New York University and a specialist in child-parent relationships.
Food fetishes will probably only annoy a spouse, enliven a dinner
party or induce curious stares, such as when one drinks coffee with a
straw (preferably with a cocktail-size one, according to a friend who
has a thing for straws).
The reasons people develop food eccentricities have not attracted a
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great deal of academic study, although there is some research on how and
why people develop likes and dislikes for various foods.
We generally learn to dislike foods much more rapidly than we learn
to like them, and we both accept and reject foods based on their odors
and appearances, anticipated consequences of eating them and ideas about
their origin, according to a paper by Paul Rozin, professor of
psychology at the University of Pennsylvania and a leading researcher on
food behavior.
But there are little or no data about what leads individuals to eat a
Peanut M&M in three parts or to consume the same food for lunch every
day. In fact, with all the current advice to eat a varied diet, there
are no studies on why people do or don't eat one, Rozin said in an
interview.
What is obvious however, is that food "has tremendous symbolic
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importance to people," according to Kelly Brownell, co-director of the
University of Pennsylvania's Obesity Research Clinic. Used to express
love, hatred or any number of emotions, eating "means a lot more to
people than just nutrition," he said.
A local 35-year-old separated man who likes neither casseroles nor
leftovers recalls how his ex-wife "would not only make a lot of
casseroles, but she'd take any leftovers and turn them into a
casserole." Her frugal food preparation habits carried over into other
consumer products (she'd buy gallon containers of generic brand
strawberry-scented shampoo), providing a continual source of conflict in
the relationship, according to the man.
Whether the fetish in this tale is the man's hatred toward
casseroles or his ex-wife's insistence upon making them is disputable.
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Nevertheless, "history has proved she didn't like me," said the man.
Another story of rejection -- Bodie's repulsion of eating animals
from Walt Disney movies -- seems to have been solidified by unpleasant
childhood memories at the family dinner table. Her father was a hunter
and would periodically bring deer and rabbits home for dinner; she would
be sent to her room for not eating. To Bodie, the meat on her plate was
Bambi or Thumper.
Conversely, an agreeable remembrance may spur a food preference. Hot
chocolate on a cold winter day may bring back memories of the warmth and
security of childhood, for example.
Katherine Tallmadge, a local registered dietitian who has such an
attachment to hot chocolate, says that a lot of her clients think they
are unique when they tell her "I really have a thing about ice cream."
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One client, according to Tallmadge, used to eat a pint of
Share this articleShareHaagen-Dazs every day until she got him down to a cone or an ice cream
bar. Tallmadge believes his attraction to the food stemmed from the fact
that his dispersed family rallied when it came to ice cream.
Gregg Ward, administrator of governmental affairs at the Institute
of Architects, and the client in question, says that his mother would
periodically declare the evening meal "an ice cream dinner," setting out
a couple of half gallons and some sundae ingredients. The only caveat
was that the four children would have to have something nutritious in
advance. "In those days, 'nutritious' meant a slab of mayonnaise on
Wonder Bread," Ward said.
Of course, not every attitude about food can or should be traced to
some deep-rooted psychological factor. Ron Siegel's obsession with
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peking duck probably just means that he likes the taste -- not that he
had some meaningful experience with ducks in his childhood.
We do, however, carry childhood food habits into adulthood. David
Rudd, legislative director for Sen. Ernest Hollings (D-S.C.), ate a
peanut butter sandwich for lunch every day throughout his elementary
school career, then would eat grilled peanut butter sandwiches made in a
waffle iron as an after-school snack. Rudd is currently borrowing a
neighbor's waffle iron until he gets his own.
According to NYU's Balter, children tend to eat the same thing every
day because there is "security in sameness." When "things are
predictable, you don't have to worry," Balter says. When adults eat the
same thing every day, he hypothesizes, it's probably for the same
Fairfax County teacher John Mitchell has eaten a bowl of oatmeal for
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breakfast and a cheese sandwich on whole-wheat bread for lunch every
weekday for the past five years. Mitchell disputes Balter's theory,
claiming he is a "relatively secure person" who simply eats the same
thing every day because it tastes good, is relatively healthy and is
easy to prepare.
Some children also go through a phase when they don't want different
foods to touch one another. Kids may start with a stage when they want
everything "mushed up, then they go to the opposite extreme to control
themselves," Balter says. Adults who like foods compartmentalized may be
seeking that same sense of orderliness, reacting to the same discomfort
with chaos, he theorized.
Randi Slovic, legislative director for Rep. Lane Evans (D-Ill.),
remembers the time she discovered that the government physicist she was
dating didn't like foods to touch. She went to his parents' house for
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dinner and the physicist's mother prepared a special plate for him.
"Honey, I was careful to keep things separate," she whispered to him, as
she put his plate on the table, Slovic recalls.
Jeff Reamy's mother tells him that he's never gotten over his eating
schedule as a 6-month-old. Every night, the 29-year-old manager of
environmental programs at the Chemical Manufacturers Association wakes
up for what he calls his "2 a.m. feeding."
Usually Reamy has a big bowl of cereal (preferably Cocoa Krispies),
eaten in bed in a big orange Tupperware bowl so he won't spill anything
while half asleep. Once in a while, he will microwave leftovers, but he
has given up on conventional-oven preparations since he fell asleep
while cooking Tater Tots. The smoke alarm woke him up.
Aside from people who eat at odd hours of the night (Mo Sussman,
owner of Joe & Mo's, orders Domino's pizza at 3 a.m. at least once a
week), there are those who consume untraditional combinations of foods
or insist that certain foods be eaten in tandem.
One woman says she has to stock appropriate beverages at her
apartment for her boyfriend, who must drink Coke with nuts and milk with
ice cream. The same boyfriend also keeps a bowl of cake batter in his
refrigerator for snacking; he never bakes the cake. "He's even turned a
friend onto the batter idea," she said.
Sussman says a steady diner at his restaurant puts steak sauce on
anything and everything he orders -- including salad and soup. A local
woman regularly consumes a variation of this, preparing "poor man's
steak sandwiches" -- worcestershire sauce between two slices of bread.
And the trade association official who eats his Peanut M&M's in
three parts also eats frozen corn mixed with cottage cheese at least
once a week. Come to think of it, said the official, "that's probably
not a fetish. It's disgusting."
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