I’m a foodie who hates food.
I love a good bowl of spaghetti, as long as the sauce is ground and it’s the exact pre-approved brand that I love. As long as the pasta is cooked perfectly al dente. And don’t even think about adding onions into the mix. Those slimy little critters ruin everything.
Chocolate-covered strawberries are my own personal hell. Why on earth would anyone mar the taste of a good strawberry with the cloyingly rich taste of chocolate?
Relish makes me relish in just about everything else.
Beets need to beet it.
Bread is breadthtakingly bad.
But above all, the thing I undoubtedly hate the most is the fact that I hate most things.
Yup, us picky eaters hate the fact that we’re picky.
We can get by on our own just fine, with the five or six meals that we enjoy. The moment we have to eat out? No siree!
A fancy restaurant is basically just a place where they take relatively normal ingredients and pair them with things that make no sense. No, I would not like a beet salad with goat cheese, you weirdo.
And don’t get me started on going over to someone’s house. What an absolute nightmare! You want to be nice and accommodating but your body will automatically reject anything you dislike, but you still want to be nice and accommodating but you also might die if you have to eat mashed potatoes that aren’t mashed properly.
You know how they say the truth will set you free? Well, this is me, confessing my sins. I’m admitting to all the weird crap I do to avoid eating food I don’t like:
I used to force people at my birthday parties to eat marble cake because I hated the taste of icing.
If I’m going over to someone’s house for the first time, I’ll eat a meal beforehand so I can pretend I’m not hungry if I don’t like what’s being cooked.
When I’m on my phone at a restaurant, I’m usually searching up images on Yelp of different dishes so that I can check to make sure there are no extra vegetables.
I only like cheese pizza and I like to pick off most of the cheese.
I avoid Mexican food at all costs because I had one bad experience with it in Cancun, Mexico.
I once stuffed a sandwich in my bra so that I could get away with not eating it.
I don’t like the taste of vanilla ice cream, so I’ve decided that I hate all ice cream.
I once had a strawberry smoothie and didn’t like the seeds in it, so now I claim to hate milkshakes despite never trying them.
I don’t know what zucchini tastes like and I’m too scared to find out. All I know is that it’s a worse version of cucumber.
When I’m at a work lunch, I’ll usually order a burger and hide the pickles in my napkin.
Whew! That was liberating. And now I turn it over to you. What’s your most embarrassing picky-eater habit?