Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Olive juice, olive juice

Maggie meeting more husbands this summer at a crawfish boil. Yes, she sucked the heads.
 
Remember in middle school when you'd look at your friend and whisper 'olive juice' and it was really funny cuz when you whisper 'olive juice' it looks like you're saying 'I love you' but you're not but you're twelve so that's real funny? 

I bought some olives at HEB. They were jalapeno stuffed olives. They were right next to the glass jars of olives, but in a can with a flip top, and LISTEN YOU FOOD MAKER PEOPLE I will pay extra for a flip top can, I will, cause the exertion of using electric can opener is too much for me some days. Don't judge.

The olives were divine.

Maggie and I stood over the island in our kitchen and ate most of them. Maggie would pick one up, look at it, and say, "Come to me, my husband!" and then she'd kiss eat and eat it. She's a black widow spider apparently. And I was proud. We bonded over those olives.

When they were all gone, I was so sad, and so not ready to let the magic end, that I drank the juice. Right out of the flip top can.

I know some of y'all just threw up in your mouth a little. Don't hate. Jesus ate olives. How can you say you're trying to be all Christlike when you don't even love olives? Posers.

One time when I was eleven or twelve I was at my friend Regina's house. Her momma Gail made some spinach and it was the best spinach I'd ever eaten in my whole little life. After it was done, I took the pot liquor and poured it in a glass and I drank it.

I drank spinach juice from a glass.

A year or so later her mom said "Wasn't that you who drank the spinach juice that time?" and I was so embarrassed because it was middle school when everything is embarrassing that I lied and said, no, not me, like, ohmahgah, that's so crazy and grody! and to this day I have felt guilty for lying about it so here I am to confess, Gail, it WAS me who drank that spinach juice, and I loved it and I'm proud of it. 

(whew, the relief of no longer living a lie!)

Basically I like anything with vinegar. I swear if you pickled an eraser I'd eat it. I love pickled pickles, obviously, pickled okra, pickled eggs, pickled onions, whatever, bring it on. Also this relish I fell in love with in London called Branston Pickle which you eat with crackers and cheese.

By the way, if you go into a grocery store in England and ask where the pickles are, they will be confused and be all, 'pickled what?' and you'll be like, "um, pickled, um, cucumbers?" and they'll say "oh, you mean gherkins" and you'll go "gherkins?" but then when you go to the gherkin aisle you'll find the Branston Pickle and say, come to me, my husband, so it will all be worthwhile.

Or maybe you won't say all that because you don't love pickles. Or Jesus.

I like kimchee, this weird stuff they bury in the ground in Korea. And saurkraut. And I've just discovered kombucha, a ridiculously overpriced hippie drink that makes me so, so happy.

I don't care so much for seafood.  I think this is because of my dad getting on his "I was raised in the country, I need to toughen up you sissy city kids" trips, which involved us first scaling our own fish (never went fishing again) and pinching the heads off of shrimp in a bucket (didn't eat shrimp for ten years, still only rarely, and never in Chinese food.) I do eat fish because Jesus ate fish but it has to be non-fishy fish, except I love lox and cream cheese on bagels, go figure. Must be because that's Jewish and Jesus was Jewish and I'm very Christlike. But sushi? Blech. I just eat the pickled ginger.

My true love is stinky cheese. For my 40th birthday, we had a wine and stinky cheese party. I was in heaven. When I said Come to me, my husband I was being very literal because he was pouring me wine and handing me stinky cheese. I don't know if Jesus ate cheese or not but we all know his thoughts on wine. Color me Christlike again!

But there was no cake at my party, cause I'm not so into cake. Or pie, or any candy, except Sour Patch Kids, my favorite. Cause they're, like, sour.

This can all be summed up like this: if it stinks, I'm probably gonna eat it.
I hope we can still be friends. 

What about you? What's your weird thing you eat? We all have one. Or twelve.

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