Food, photographs & the Ucky mato incident

Me and a Funfetti birthday cake. I wish someone would look at me the way I look at cake!

From an early age, I’ve had a complicated relationship with food.

As a child, I loved every manner of sweet treat and syrupy drink. Mostly cake. Good lord! If you put a Funfetti cake with marshmallow frosting before me, I could have taken it down in one sitting. (I have photographic proof.)

Also, Cool Whip. I don’t know why but I loved Cool Whip. That is until one December night, when as a youngster I was sleeping at my grandparents’ home. I woke in the middle of the night and crept to the kitchen. There, I found the Cool Whip in the freezer and sat on the floor, devouring the entire container. The technicolor stomach pains and vomit I experienced over the next several hours cured me from Cool Whip. No more. Ever.

One food I have vivid memories of detesting as a child is tomatoes. My family likes to tell a story about me as a toddler, dining in a fancy restaurant with relatives visiting from out of state. My mother ordered a hamburger for me. When it arrived, I promptly lifted the bun from the burger, grabbed the offending tomato beneath and threw it on the floor, exclaiming: ‘Ucky mato!’

I will never live down the Ucky mato incident.

My parents worked hard to provide my brother and me with healthy, nutritious meals as we grew up. I remember dinners with sweet corn picked from my mother’s backyard garden or homemade bread. As we aged and my parents’ work schedules changed, meals started to involve more Hamburger Helper and canned goods. To this day, my brother and I play a game, What food from your childhood will you never eat again?

My brother’s usual immediate response: ‘Beef stew! I have told myself over the years that I will work hard and have a good job so I never have to feed myself or my family Dinty Moore Beef Stew.’ He really does hate the stuff.

I’ve always had a complicated relationship with food. Here, I devour a large, onion and mustard-slathered hot dog during a birthday lunch with my newspaper co-workers. I have made them pledge this photo will not be used in my obituary.

For me, I will never again eat Cool Whip (see above) and Spam. Just thinking about that gelatinous canned meat gives me the chills.

When I went off to college, my food life expanded a bit. I worked in a grocery store to help pay my way. There, I was fortunate to have access to decent cuts of meat and bulk-size boxes of Top Ramen.

Still, there were many nights of beer, pizza and junk food. The Weed and I have a favorite memory of one summer when we were living together, working minimum-wage jobs. One night, we scraped together enough cash to buy a box of Twinkies and a 12-pack of bottom-shelf beer. I can’t remember what the beer was. I do remember, however, how happy The Weed and I were that night. We sat in the summer heat, downing snack cakes and cold beers. Those were simpler days.

Today, food is again complicated for me. Having been diagnosed with breast cancer twice, I am trying to make better choices. Honestly.

My disdain for tomatoes has been tackled. I can now eat any manner of tomato in a salad, on my plate dressed with basil, mozzarella and balsamic or straight from a container.

I also now make a concerted effort to eat foods I have read about and seem to have cancer-fighting properties.

That brings me to my latest obsession: Ginger and turmeric tea. I can drink cup after cup of this stuff and I really do enjoy it.

My friend Tracey introduced me to the Rishi organic turmeric and ginger blend. After buying this tea a box at a time for several months, I gave in this week and went to Whole Foods and cleared the shelf of this magic elixir. If you haven’t tried it, I fully endorse it. It’s caffeine free. You might not be able to find it in Boulder County, Colorado, though. I have a pretty decent stock on my shelves at home.

While at Whole Foods, I also bought a few tins of organic turmeric and cayenne pepper to start sprinkling over my meals.

I have been putting a tablespoon of the cayenne pepper in at least one cup of tea each day. It’s an interesting taste, kind of intense.

During treatment for Breast Cancer 2.0, I celebrated the announcement I was in remission with several bites of pecan pie. I was bald and happy. Very bald. Very happy.

I recently talked with my oncologist about using turmeric and cayenne pepper in my diet. She grew up in India. So, she offered several ways to use turmeric in cooking and she encouraged me to use cayenne. Both offer anti-inflammatory, digestive and anti-congestive benefits.

Also, the active ingredient in cayenne pepper — capsaicin — has been shown to kill prostate cancer cells.

In an article published in March 2006, called ‘Hot Pepper Kills Prostate Cancer Cells in Study,’ Dr. Soren Lehmann of the Cedars-Sinai Medical Center and the UCLA School of Medicine said: ‘Capsaicin had a profound anti-proliferative effect on human prostate cancer cells in culture. It caused 80 percent of the prostate cancer cells growing in mice to commit suicide in a process known as apoptosis.’

So, I’m hopeful my newfound love of cayenne pepper has some benefits in my life.

The Weed and I also have started using the Blue Apron meal service. I haven’t seen anything specific about cancer-curing properties in the meals like pork chops with mashed potatoes and maple-glazed kale. Still, there are vegetables in each dish and a decided lack of Spam. Thankfully.

Bon Appétit! If you have any cancer-curbing suggestions you’d like to share. I’m all ears.

•••

My parents recently sent several boxes of old photographs to my brother, J.J., and me.

The black and white, Polaroid, and blurry images arranged in albums with carefully written captions showcase our youth.

There are photos of my towheaded baby brother finding a piece of Easter candy tucked behind a lamp months after he was supposed to. The glee in his chunky little face is infectious.

There are photos of me as a precocious first grandchild bathing in a kiddie pool in my grandparents’ yard. The purple bathing suit I wore was a little too revealing, showing acres of baby chub. I likely have a lawsuit on my hands.

My parents. Not The Clampetts. (Nice smoke, Jerry!)

Picking through these boxes the past several days has given me moments of great joy, side-splitting laughter and a little bit of sadness.

Seeing my parents so young and beautiful is meaningful. They were so happy. They were so proud.

Seeing my brother as a toddler, riding his pedal-driven tractor, is classic. Today, he is a construction supervisor. He travels across Colorado, overseeing large civil and general construction projects. We should have known his devotion to heavy equipment at a young age would play heavily into his adulthood.

My brother, J.J., and his pedal-driven tractor with close supervision from my mom. No one ever wore helmets in the 70s!

The photos of me are pretty great. I was an adorable child, if I do say so myself.

I have no idea what I’m going to do with all these photos. For now, they are in a closet. I will again look at them, I’m sure.

These reminders of simpler times are nice.