From as far as I can remember, I was a very difficult child. I would refuse to say hello to people. I would run away from kindergarten. I would have a fit every day before going to school. And I would not eat this or that, or even this AND that. Because of this issue, we stopped travelling elsewhere than to Italy pretty quickly.
I don't know why I would turn down most food, but now I can clearly see a link with my asocial character.
In my first 7 years, before my parents run a restaurant, I would eat at home with them and my older brother most of the time. If I had to have a meal somewhere else than at home, I would not eat at all (except at my grand-mother's). I don't think anyone ever questioned why...
I had an uncontrolable fear of having to eat at school. I remember I was even frightened of the school kitchen. I could not go and fetch the 4 o'clock snack all pupils would have on a daily basis. I always had a mate pick it for me.
I have a vivid memory of the panic I felt when my mother would pick me late for lunch. I had only one thing on my mind: "They're gonna make me eat here with the other kids." Panic. The crying, shouting, kicking panic no one around would dare to handle. And a strong feeling of abandon tightly linked to food. This was my first taste of the end of the world.
At home, I would eat some of the stuff my Mum would prepare, but far from all. Being French, she would cook mainly classical French dishes. Already back then I had a strong aversion to potatoes, butter, fat fish, red meat... She would put regularly on the menu those horrendous hachis parmentier, pot-au-feu, steak frites or soupe au poireau, to my great despair.
At least, a clafoutis or some crêpes à l'orange would bring some relief now and then.
The happy times at the table were with my paternal grand-mother. She was Italian, cooked Italian. Unfortunately, she wouldn't bake anything herself, which is weird when I think about it...
From those early days, my all-time favorite dish is "gnocchi di patate". Her way.
Note: One could find interesting that my favorite dish is based on an item, potatoes, that I would avoid by all means!
Overall, it was a lot of pasta, a lot of tomato sauce, some veggies and fruits. She would take me to the small Italian grocery downtown, "Toffoletti" quite often. A treasure trove. Shelves full of packs of pasta, so many different shapes... Refrigerated counters full of freshly made pasta. All kinds of Italian products all over the shop. And you would never go out without a bag of pralines. This was the taste of happiness.
When it comes to other members of the family, I have some appalling memories of eating with them. My brother knew I had issues with most things on the table. On Sundays would come the usual roasted chicken. I was sitting there anxiously thinking: "Aim at the breast 'cause it's the only edible part..." And what would happen? He would put his hands on the serving dish first and indeed, go for the breast...
Years later, after the "restaurant era" (I will dedicate a post to that) I would be confronted to the very same behaviour from my grand-father. After my grand-mother passed away, he would always have lunch with us as he couldn't cook anything by himself.
I was about 15 back then and I think this might have been the last push off the cliff...