Good food is a matter of taste
I have always enjoyed eating as long as I can remember. While most kids would push their vegetables around on their plate and feed the broccoli to the dog under the table, I enjoyed anything my mother would put on my plate and would ask for seconds.
While there are not many foods that I will kick off my plate, there are a few that have not cut the mustard and have gone on my do not eat again list.
I don’t know who ever thought that eating a raw Oyster and sucking it right out of its shell was something they should do. No thank you. Even with my appetite, I will not eat something that looks like someone sneezed on a sea shell.
I went to the Chinese buffet several years ago and saw an item that looked interesting. I was unsure what it was but I figured asking questions in a Chinese restaurant was a road I didn’t want to go down. I thought that it was chicken but after chewing it for 15 minutes like a cow chewing its cud, I was sure that it was made from rubber. I later found out that it was called Calamari. Whatever that is, add it to my list of things to not eat again.
Not learning my lesson, I tried another item at the Chinese buffet that I had no idea what it was. When I bit into it, I noticed a strange texture and I asked the waitress what it was as I swallowed. She told me it was sushi. I wasn’t sure what that was but was hoping that was a fancy name for a chicken nugget. However, she continued to explain that it was raw fish rolled in rice. I must have looked like the Coyote after the Road Runner hit him on the head with an anvil as I scurried to get the taste out of my mouth. I’ll eat all the fish you can fix, but let’s cook it first, shall we.
I recall going out to eat in order to celebrate the publication of my first book a few years ago and we went to a seafood place that must have thought their food was pretty special based on the prices. After seeing that they didn’t serve hamburgers, I gave in and ordered lobster. The waiter rolled his eyes a bit when I asked for French fries on the side. Evidently they didn’t serve them there. That was the first sign that this meal was going downhill quick.
Once I received my food, I saw the lobster on the plate and I had no idea how to get inside to the meat. I poked and prodded to no avail and my wife stopped me just as I was about to crack the shell on the table like an egg. I never wanted a cheeseburger so badly in my life
After 15 minutes of trying to gain entry, I figured out that they supply you with a little pair of pliers to crack the shell with. Once I tasted it, I realized that I had been duped. All that work for something with so little flavor. If there was macaroni and cheese inside then I would understand. Never again.
I suppose I am a little spoiled. I grew up eating great food that came from a cast iron skillet fixed in my mother’s kitchen. Today, I am blessed that my wife cooks better than any restaurant could ever hope to achieve and none of my food requires pliers to get into to.