Food Critic

Eaten anything gross lately? I haven’t. Mostly because it’s rare for me to branch out from my standard fare and try new foods. It’s also because I’m very liberal when it comes to my labeling foods “gross.”

If I asked my nine-year-old daughter, Meghan, what the grossest food she’d ever tried was, she’d probably say something like, “pork chops” or “a hamburger.” She’s far worse than me. I know for a fact she’s never even tried a hamburger. When we go to McDonald’s I have to order a cheeseburger without the burger, without ketchup, mustard or onion. Just cheese on a bun. (Nine times out of ten, the sandwich we get has a burger and we start all over again.) If we’re having anything besides cheese pizza or mac and cheese for dinner, it’s “disgusting.” Meghan’s not afraid to say so and she says it just about every night. She is not my muse. I have no desire to cook if that’s the reception I can expect.

I have no one to blame for Meghan’s persnickety eating habits but myself. I too am a picky eater, just not to the same extent. I’m not sure how I became such a fussy eater either. Growing up, my mom prepared and cycled through the same ten-or-so dinners. Ones I remember included: chili, spaghetti, Johnny Marzetti, macaroni and cheese, meatloaf, steak on the grill, eye of round roast beef, roasted beef with potatoes and carrots, pizza (every Sunday), and sloppy joes. (Besides KFC, my dad was not a big fan of chicken, which is funny because Pat and I have chicken at least four times a week.) I imagine most families are like that – the same meals cycled over and over again — especially those families with five kids. Pat and I only have one kid and I have an even smaller arsenal of go-to meals than my mom had.

My cousin Molly once told me that when she was a kid, whenever her family went out to eat in a restaurant, her dad insisted that everyone select something from the menu that they hadn’t had before. He wanted to expand their palette, experience new and unfamiliar foods.

I am not into experimenting with new foods. Why order something from a menu if I’m not sure I’ll like it? Money down the drain. Instead, if I find a food I like on a restaurant’s menu, I stick to it usually ordering the same thing every time I’m there. My food experiences are limited and, for the most part, pretty boring.

I know I’m unfair to most strange foods. I haven’t even tasted some of the foods I consider repulsive. For me, a food has to at least be attractive in order for me to try it. For example, oysters are disgusting to me. I’m so grossed out by the look of oysters and watching people eat the slimy things, that I will likely never try them in my lifetime. You have to admit they’re ugly.

I will probably never eat sushi or steak tartar either. Not because these foods are unattractive, but because they haven’t been cooked. The thought of eating raw fish or raw beef is appalling to me.

My sister Julie bit into a raw chicken sandwich at Wendy’s once. Now that was gross! I remember the Wendy’s staff – probably a bunch of high schoolers – didn’t really apologize, offer to refund her money, or even give her a raincheck for a future visit. What they did do though was offer her another chicken sandwich. No, thank you.

I’m not only finicky about trying a food based on its appearance and “doneness,” but also its texture. I admit that if I were starving and the only thing to eat were blackberries, I’d eat them. They don’t taste bad and they’re not ugly. In fact, they’re kind of neat looking. I just can’t stand the texture of the berry on my tongue. Same with ground coconut. As a result, I’m not a big fan of German chocolate cake.

I tried eating alligator one time with my friend Maria. Alligator happened to be featured on the menu of a local (Columbus) restaurant where we regularly met for lunch. We both really liked it. Alligator tastes a a lot like chicken – just a lot more expensive.

While driving through Oklahoma during a cross-country trip, my friend Chris and I stopped for lunch. We saw on the restaurant’s menu that they offered an ostrich burger. Chris and I were always very adventurous, but not when it came to food. We decided to give it a try, but not without precautions. Because neither of us was confident we’d like the ostrich burger and we because we were both super hungry, each of us ordered an entrée and then we ordered the ostrich burger as a third entrée that we would share.

The ostrich burger was breaded liked a chicken breast and it was very, very chewy. That’s all I can say. I don’t actually remember the taste too much, just that it took forever to chew the damn thing enough to swallow. Too much time chewing. Time to think about what you’re chewing. Yuck. I don’t think either of us had more than one bite.

What was most disturbing about the ostrich burger experience actually happened after we left the restaurant and were back on the highway. Just a mile or so from the restaurant, there was a huge open field on the right side of the highway. The field was empty except for a lone ostrich that appeared to be dead, lying on the ground. An ostrich. Alone. In a field. Dead? We started to think that maybe that was how the restaurant came across the gummy ostrich they had just served us. Perhaps it was so chewy because it had been lying in the hot sun, alone, in a field, and dead for days…

We were in Texas when, further along on our drive that same day, we drove past a slaughter house. If anything can turn a meat lover into a vegetarian, it’s passing through the more-than-a-mile-long stretch of stench that a slaughter house produces. That whole afternoon was gagful.

After that trip I was brave enough to try ostrich again and then a few more times. The ostrich served at the Ostrich Grille in Santa Cruz (now defunct) was completely different than the rubbery, breaded ostrich sandwich I had had on my cross-country trip. The ostrich meat there, was presented on a serving plate and looked like a cutlet of beef, carefully sliced into bite-sited pieces. It was delicious. Whenever Pat and I went there for dinner, we always ordered the ostrich as an appetizer.

My friend Brad sure had a mouthful of something nasty when we were teenagers. One afternoon, Brad and I were sitting next to each other in the back of his family’s car. A bunch of us were at Lake Michigan and we were getting ready to leave. He was holding a pint of worms that he was going to be using as bait when he went fishing – either later that day or the next morning.

He took the lid off the container and pinched out a single worm. He held it up, above his head and asked me, “Do you want to bet me that I’ll eat this worm?”

“Gross, Brad. Yeah, I’ll bet you. Five dollars.” I watched in disbelief as Brad tilted his chin up and opened his mouth. “You won’t do it,” I challenged.

Then, something terrible happened. By some fluke accident – because Brad had no intention of tasting it — that worm escaped Brad’s clasp and fell right into his mouth!

Oh, the coughing and spitting that ensued! So, so, so gross. I had to scramble out of the car to let Brad out so he could spit properly.

Afterwards, Brad claimed I owed him five dollars, but I argued that he hadn’t actually eaten the worm, just tasted it. Big difference. I feel bad about that now. I should have paid Brad. And I should have started calling him “Worm Breath.” But I didn’t do either.

What was the grossest or most unusual thing you’ve ever eaten?

Tonight, Pat and I are having chicken nachos for dinner – our usual Friday night meal. Way too “disgusting” for Meghan. She’ll have another frozen cheese pizza again tonight. Please don’t call Child Protective Services on us. She’s taking a multivitamin.