Most people say I have a strange palate. My husband will go so far as to say I am un-American and call me a Communist. This is because I strongly dislike, loathe and despise most 'all American' foods. Hamburgers and hot dogs- yuck! As a rule I cannot tolerate red meat in general. I will not partake of ground beef, steak, or ribs, let alone ground-up, mish-mashed miscellaneous cow and/or chicken and pork parts. And anything that is on a bone is a 'Do Not Pass Go!' Do not, in fact, attempt to step near Go. Really, when you get right down to it, avoid Go like the plague- you WILL be turned away at the door.
Hostess Twinkies and apple pie- double yuck!! I can't stand apples or anything made from them including, but not limited to, pies, ciders, juices, jellies and sauces. And I refuse to eat Twinkies on the grounds that they and the roaches are the only two things likely to survive a nuclear attack. I'll pass on both, thanks.
Peanut butter and caramel- ewwwwww!! Oh my God! I want to do a 'Yuck! Yuck! Yucky!!' dance just at the thought of it. (For those of you interested- those of you who are not, look away- this dance is similar to the 'Chicken Dance,' though with much more extreme flapping and at a far more frantic pace.) I detest even the smell of peanut butter, it makes me nauseous. And the flavor of caramel revolts me as much as the stickiness. I don’t get the whole sticky thing. Why do you want to deliberately consume something that sticks not only to your fingers (ew!), but also to the roof of your mouth and your teeth? I can't stand it! I won't eat anything sticky- no caramels, marshmallows, taffy, or peanut butter. Nope. I take a big old happy PASS on the sticky.
If you have been paying attention, you have come to realize that for me, the caramel apple with nuts is the epitome of all that is unholy. It is one of many torture devices utilized by Beelzebub in the seventh level of hell. No need for it here on Earth. Just saying.
Instead, my palate is more herbivore than carnivore. Rarely have I met a vegetable that I didn't like. You name it, Brussels sprouts to collard greens, turnips to parsnips, peas, beans and corn, I like them all. Even the strange ones that most people don't know what they are. I was raised on kohlrabi. For this (and many other reasons, I have no doubt) people think that I'm weird.
Hmmmmm… Really?
I think it's far weirder that my son will pry open little oyster shells to get to that dubious ball of nasty goo inside and slurp it down. Errggghhh, YAK!!! Or that my step-daughter (who has an adventurous palate), is not at all put off by the cannibalistic nature of ingesting crawfish, gleefully breaking their wee little necks and sucking their brains out of their cranial cavities… Mmhmm good! Forget the biscuits, Alton, that's good eats!
Recently, my step-daughter and I had a conversation regarding her need to find a French restaurant. The reason? She was craving snails. What?! Hold the phone there, missy! WHO, I ask you, WHO, in the name of all that is holy, craves snails?? She went on to say, that if she could get hold of some 'prepared' snails she would be glad to make them herself, but she couldn't think where to find a specialty market around here for such things.
'Prepared snails.' Prepared snails? Now my head is filled with jolly cartoonish pictures of happy little snails cavorting (do snails cavort?) around with petite knapsacks on their shells filled with all sorts of paraphernalia, such as teensy little compasses, microscopic bottles of water, infinitesimal rolls of duct tape, and diminutive Swiss Army knives - what you've got there is a prepared snail! That boy is READY for action!!
So stupidly, I asked, "Exactly how do you prepare a snail for eating?" Of course, I was thinking: Do you give him a stern lecture? Is this something that requires a little heart to heart with the snail, such as: 'Hey, buddy, now I know this is gonna be tough on you, but you gotta brace yourself…" Is this a 'last rites' kind of thing? What exactly is going on here?
The response was quick and decisive: You have to de-snot the snails.
Erk.
What?
De-snot the snails.
Erk. 'De-snot the snails.' In order to eat them.
I'm sorry. If the word 'de-snot' is involved anywhere in the process of my food prep, I am NOT eating it.
Thanks, I'll stick to carrots. All I gotta do is peel those bad boys and I am good to go…
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