Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Gourmet oddity

This one's done by request!  (You're welcome!)

So, if you know anything about me from this blog, you'll know that I'm pretty much scared of everything under the moon, and that I have an impressively strange list of weird obsessive compulsive ticks.  The fun doesn't stop there!

I touched upon it briefly in my neurotic post: I'm a very specifically picky eater.  In fact, I would certainly wager that my ticks about food and eating are perhaps the strangest that I have.  (I do promise to start legitimately blogging once more - I know that a lot of these posts recently have to do with strange old me, and I know that can get a little worn after a while.  So if you're new here, keep holding on.  I promise I'm not crazy and that I have more to say that just about myself.  But in the meantime.. have another laugh at my expense!)

The most normal - really, I don't even think normal is the right word to use - thing about my food habits is that I can't bear to have my food touching.  Thanksgiving is particularly a sticky time for me, what with the gravy running wild everywhere without inhibition and my mom being ignorant to my problems and always dropping a large quantity of mashed potatoes OVER my perfectly sculpted bed of rice.  That's just disgusting.  Little grains of rice getting all up in my mashed potatoes' business.  If I'm lucky, my rice gets drowned in some gravy, too, and I work my hardest to avoid those newly soggy and sad rice grains.  You think that's all crazy?  That's just Thanksgiving.

I don't eat much.  It'd be easier to list off foods I DO eat than foods I don't.  I generally don't like peppers, bananas, peanut butter, tuna, ketchup, mustard, condiments of any sort, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, watermelon, spinach (that's a given!), nuts, raisins, mushrooms.  (Oddly, I love broccoli!)

A disgusting amalgamation of those two aforementioned points is the idea of toppings on food, or dishes involving many foods altogether.  When I visit fast food joints, I order my burgers without anything on them and feel like a tool every single time that I do so; restaurants are truly hell for me, because I can be completely on board with a steak until I read "served with a side of peppers" or "drizzled with a mushroom sauce."  I similarly can't order pasta in restaurants because of the large amount of different things they mesh together.

Oh, my good lord.  Pasta.  Pasta, pasta, pasta.  I am Italian.  I am a very, very bad Italian.  I loathe tomato sauce.  WHAT?  Yes.  I am constantly reprimanded and shamed every time I have a family function - I refuse my nonna's homemade lasagna and request a separate pasta free from any red sauce.  I prefer my pasta plain - not even with an alfredo sauce.  I mean butter plain.

How does someone like me survive?  Well, I don't.  I eat a lot of shit because I know food manufacturers can't slip mushrooms or peppers into Oreo cookies or a bag of chips.  I rue the day that happens.

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