Tida
Tonight, since we were out and about anyway, the boyfriend and I decided to stop somewhere and grab some grub. The shopping center we parked in boasted Italian, Thai, and Mexican cuisine. I could’ve really gone for a good sub at the Italian place. I’m a big- and I mean BIG- sandwich person and, frankly, I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed a good sandwich. But we decided to go Thai instead…which was good since I’ve never had Thai food before. I remember once in high school going to a Thai restaurant with a friend, but as strange as it sounds, I don’t remember eating a bite. Perhaps I was just meeting them there for later shenanigans. And once, another friend came over after lunch and offered me a taste of some rice. Not exactly a full Thai experience, though.
So I was quite intrigued when we walked through the door and were led off to a quiet corner all to ourselves. The menu baffled me. I had no idea what to order. I wanted to be adventurous, but at the same time felt I should experience some basics first. What to do! In the end, the boyfriend, who didn’t seem quite as perplexed as I, ordered the Thai Fried rice and I followed suit, ordering the Thai Spicy fried rice. Both with chicken. We also got some Crispy Wontons and shared a bowl of Wonton Soup to tie us over. The Wontons were good, though not quite as big as their Chinese counterparts. The sweet chili sauce made the whole thing, I’m telling you. The soup was pretty good too, the broth flavorful and swimming with cabbage and shrimp. There was only one downfall: cilantro.
Is there any kind of food on this planet that you just cannot tolerate? Even the thought alone makes you cringe and turn your nose up. For me, that food is cilantro. I can’t stand cilantro. Not the smell. Not the taste. Not the look of the stuff. After only one sip of the Wonton Soup, I knew exactly what was wrong. Sure enough, there they were, little green specs floating around in the broth, mingling in with the cabbage and dumplings. I was oh so disappointed and politely pushed the bowl across the table toward the boyfriend. I could wait for my fried rice, thank you. Of course, I did eventually help the boyfriend finish off the soup, carefully picking out the pieces of cilantro. We were meant to share it after all and the soup itself was really tasty. Was I really going to give up on an entire dish for a tiny part of the whole? No, ma’am. It’s just not in my nature. Shortly thereafter, my rice was served and I enjoyed the rest of the evening with my nose dripping. Talk about cleared sinuses!
But the whole episode did get me to thinking about other foods I don’t enjoy. Granted, there aren’t many. But that’s not to say there aren’t occasions where I’m prone to decline an offered meal (or in the very least make it look like I’m eating the food when I’m really shuffling it around my plate. Here’s a list of my top five most hated foods
5. Green beans. I’ve never liked green beans and don’t think I will ever truly appreciate them. Especially the stuff from a can. A green bean casserole has been known to make me momentarily forget my distaste. Sometimes I’ll even eat them willingly if fresh and prepared well. But you won’t find them in my house.
4. Black Eyed Peas. We had to eat them once on New Years. Supposedly for prosperity and good luck for the following year. I was still sitting at the table long after everyone else had suffered the awful stuff down. Eventually, I spooned the peas into my napkin, stuffed them into my pocket, and flushed them down the toilet. Problem solved. I think I was 17 or 18.
3. Grapefruit. I was a kid and we were having a big family breakfast at either Golden Corral or Shoney’s. I’m leaning toward Golden Corral. I ordered grape juice. The waitress accidentally brought my grapefruit juice. Do you know how bitter grapefruit juice is especially when compared to sweet sweet grape juice? I think I spit it right back into my cup. Gross!
2. Blueberries. I remember the very moment I discovered I didn’t like blueberries. I was young, mayhaps seven or so, and my grandmother on a whim decided to make blueberry pancakes. Sounded good to me! I loved pancakes and adding blueberries seemed like an exotic yet fun idea. So she made the batter and began frying up her cakes. The thing I remember most vividly is the smell. The smell of those blueberries cooking in the pancake batter filled the entire house. Some people may find this smell mouthwatering. I found it gag-worthy and actually did make my way toward the bathroom to expel the contents from my stomach. I’ve never looked at a blueberry the same since, though thankfully my opinion has not changed about pancakes (except for the fact I can’t cook them without burning half the batter to pieces)
1. Cilantro. I never had a bad experience with cilantro. I just plain don’t like it. I’ve heard tale, however, that it’s a genetic thing that causes one to despise cilantro. I don’t know if there’s any truth in that. Maybe one day I’ll investigate.
Well, there you go! What are your top 5 no-no’s?
Tijuana
I prefer the old kitchen before the remodel
Granny with Memaw (right)
Today I stumbled on a post here that reminded me of my great grandmother. Most of us call her Granny, though there is a small section of the family that calls her Old Granny for some old reason. For the most past, I find it annoying, but that’s neither here nor there. In January, that magnificent woman will be 90. Maybe 91. I don’t think anyone knows the actual year of her birth. 1922 seems to work for her so we’ll cross our fingers and say she’ll be 90. I should really make an effort to visit her this year on her birthday. I don’t visit nearly as often as I should.
One of the most frequent memories I have of my Granny is her making biscuits and gravy. Like the guy in the post above, it took me a long time to finally try biscuits and gravy. I won’t deny that I was a picky child and let’s be real- gravy doesn’t look all that appetizing. Plus, my Granny is a vegetarian so in my eyes her plain white gravy looked like nasty white goop designed to ruin a perfectly good biscuit. I’m not sure what I ate for breakfast on those days…
Granny and Gramps
Usually, I remember my first bite of most foods. I’ve said it before, I remember my first taste of crab legs, muscles, sausage, lo mein, egg rolls, Indian tacos, etc. The same doesn’t go for biscuits and gravy. For the life of me, I cannot remember how that stuff got on my plate and in my belly. But I remember not liking it one day and then loving it the next day. It became one of my comfort foods and it’s so easy to prepare. I do remember standing next to Granny’s ancient gas stove and watching her every move in making the gravy. Even back then I wasn’t so great at making dough. But I sure could replicate her gravy, which has served me greatly on many poor-girl dinner nights.
I don’t think I even knew that gravy came in carnivore form until I went to college. My friends and I used to host “Family Dinner Nights” and one night the theme was breakfast. Sarah made sausage gravy. Needless to say, my mind was blown. A new door was opened. Why hadn’t I ever discovered such a thing before!
But I still love my Granny’s plain gravy with heaping amounts of black pepper.
armadillas 