10 Things I Wouldn't Put In My Mouth

Today’s agenda at Stasha’s place is LIST 10 FOODS. Topic courtesy of Bridget at Twinisms.

I could assemble a list of my 10 favorite foods but I talk about food a lot anyway, so that bores even me.

I could put together a list of things I’ll eat. As indicated by the reaction of my scale this morning after a weekend out of town celebrating the holidays, that list is way too long and would be arduous to narrow down to just 10.

I could challenge myself (why would I do that on a Monday during the holidays?) and think of 10 foods I do not like, generally boycott, or would refuse to choke down. There’s so few of those that this should prove burdensome.

10 FOODS I HATE 

OR WOULDN’T PUT IN MY MOUTH

OR ONLY IF I WAS FORCED 

OR PAID

1.    Peas- It’s a known fact I hate them. Would I eat them on a dare or if someone forced me? Yes, but I wouldn’t be happy about or like it.

2.    Raw mushrooms- I wouldn’t just pick one up and eat it. I have a difficult enough time with cooked ones (other than portabellas) because of their slimy consistency but like peas, I’d eat them if I would get some benefit like money out of it.

3.    Raisons- Never liked them as a kid and hated when people gave them out as treats for Halloween. Still don’t care for them and not even in cookies. Put in chocolate or butterscotch chips instead.

4.    Goat cheese in sweets- I tried a goat cheese brownie yesterday. If I weren’t at a restaurant, I would have spit it in my napkin. Actually, I should have. It gave me the willies and I almost refused to swallow it. Don’t do that to brownies, please.

5.    Frog legs- I don’t even think I need to explain this. Who thought eating them was a good idea? I have a brother in law who, every time he orders them, picks them up and performs a little dance with them before he sinks his teeth in. Wrong!

6.    Lamb- Anything and I’ve given a good effort here. I really have. Sometimes, I’ll take a bite of someone’s lamb chop and think, “That’s not so bad.” But then, why would I eat a whole plate of it if it were not so bad? AND if you cook it in your house, which I mistakenly have for one of my kids, your house smell like funk for days.

7.    Wild game- I’ll group Buffalo, Venison, wild birds, and any other four legged mammal, bird or amphibian that’s not a cow, pig or chicken.

8.    I Don’t Do Organs

9.    Blue Cheese- If you want to see me vomit which I guarantee no one does, don’t make me eat a hunk of Blue Cheese. And don’t try to pass it off in a salad or dish. I can taste it from the moment it touches my tongue. You know that’s its mold, right?

10.                  Sardines (any way they come), Anchovies (unless you chop them up so small and don’t tell me (but I’ll know and not make a huge deal about it)), Herring- When I was in college, gold fish eating contests were big. Nothing alive and squirmy and slippery will ever end up swimming around in my stomach.

I thought this was going to be harder than it was. As I said, there’s not much I won’t eat.

I’m not getting on the scale for a few days until I can get this S$%T (me) under control around here!

Peas! I Hate Them!

Thanks to Mama Kat’s Writing Prompts, I’ve decided to write about this (my friends are visiting so my time is very limited):

1.) What’s for dinner Mom? Describe a meal your Mom cooked that you dreaded eating growing up.

But I almost decided to write about this:

2.) Your morning routine.

Writing about my morning routine feels a little bit TMI so I’ll stick with food.

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I grew up in an Italian family. Food was good. Always. And it wasn’t just good. It was fantastic.

My mother served delectable meals for dinner, at family gatherings, and for parties. I was a very well fed girl.

Apparently she wasn’t born that way which I learned from my father. She wasn’t allowed to cook in her Italian household growing up because her mother did all the cooking. I bet my dad, who dined regularly with my mom’s family during their courtship, thought he was marrying a world-class cook. That was not to be the case.

My mom, married young, learned by experimentation…on my father. He was so sweet because she burned, from what I hear, almost everything. For some reason when she'd burn something, he’d call it “Spanish” whatever it was. “Spanish” rice, “Spanish” chicken, “Spanish”…you get the picture.

By the time I was old enough to chime in, she was darn awesome.

Except for one teensy, tiny thing…PEAS! She made me eat peas and I HATED THEM.

In the earliest of pea times, I would sneak some into my mouth and excuse myself for the bathroom (we ALWAYS had to excuse ourselves from the table any time we left per dad’s rules). I’d spit them out, take another bite a few minutes later and repeat. They weren’t dummies and were on to me in no time. Hence, no more potty breaks for me!

My next idea was to spoon my peas, when no one was looking, onto the table and distribute them under the rim of my plate. I’d excuse myself when I was finished and run out the door as fast as I could before my mom cleared the dishes (I bet she wondered why I didn’t clear my own which was required). She actually did me a favor and waited until my dad left the table before she did it herself. Again, she was on to my antics.

Her only recourse, when all else was failing, I was not allowed up until my peas were finished. So I sat. And I sat. And I sat for so long after my dad left the table with my mother glaring at me that she got tired of waiting (I suppose I was stubborn back then. I don't think I am as an adult). I think she eventually decided that she would rather go read her romance novel than sit for another hour with me in a standoff. She’d finally say, “Oh, just go out but come back before it gets dark.”

I guess I won that battle, if you can call it that, and I still dislike peas to this day. However, I will eat them if in a dish but never just a big spoonful. YUCK!

Is there any nutritional value to peas anyway? I didn’t bother to “Wiki” that little tidbit of information.