I love to eat

I'm not a picky eater. There aren't too many things that I don't like to eat. I've eaten lots of things...things that I still don't know what they were. I don't like chicken liver. I don't like kidneys. I had something called "Callos" one time. I was living in Bolivia at the time. I didn't like it. I ate it anyway because I'm not rude but I didn't like it. I was told...upon asking...that it was, roughly translated, stomach of the cow. OK. I was fine with that because I've eaten other parts of the cow but I really didn't like it. I had it again a couple of times (tastes can change)....this time in Mexico. They snuck the stuff into Menudo. I didn't know the first time and I figured that maybe I'd like it the second time if there were enough spices in it. Nope. There it was. Tripe. Yuck. I don't like tripe. I'm not too fond of Rocky Mountain Oysters either. Has nothing to do with what they are...just didn't like them. But I like escargot, caviar, squid in it's own ink, raw oysters, turtle, woodchuck, skunk, rabbit, snake,tongue, gizzards....well....you name it...I've probably eaten it. I usually only ask what something is when I don't like it. Kind of like when seeing someone with a really bad haircut, you should always ask them who their hair stylist is. You don't want to go there but you don't have to hurt someone's feelings either. I doubt I'll ever eat bugs or grubs or worms but...maybe once....just to make sure.

I like trying stuff. It's an adventure. I think it's silly to get all green around the gills just because you don't like the "idea" of what you're eating. People are different though. My daughters are picky eaters at least in comparison to me...so maybe they're just normal. One of my daughters is a chef....and she hates fish....all fish. I like fish.... but not salmon...unless it's smoked. I must say though that at least my son is willing to try different things. He liked the sushi. Last night, he had the escargot. And the chef didn't even disguise it. It was served...in the shell. I think he liked it. He ate it. He even liked the caviar that I made last summer.

My daughters tended to come to the dinner table with a cautious attitude when they were growing up. "What is it?" I tended to answer... "Food". "What kind of food?" they would ask. I tended to answer...."Good Food". Anyone for a good meal of barbequed "dinosaur cheeks" with a side of "green trees and snow trees"? Somehow it always sounded better that way then, barbequed pork chops with mixed broccoli and cauliflower.

My grandma (my mother's mom) always insisted that we were eating chicken or that we were eating roast beef when we'd eat at my grandparent's place but you could always tell that we weren't because of that look of suspicion on my father's face and by that humorous gleam in my mother's eye. She knew. I have to laugh because....my husband gets that same look of suspicion on his face when we eat at my mother's house...and I'm absolutely positive that she's never served him rabbit or turtle.