No Way! There's a Chapter 3?! (The Final Chapter)

“Alright, Let’s Take This One Food at a Time”: This has become less and less of a problem for me, but I mention it here just for the sake of showing how much improvement I have made over the years. I used to eat one thing at a time on my plate and work my way around. Occasionally, I inadvertently revert back to this habit. I would start with my least favorite item, saving the most coveted victuals for last. I no longer do this because I have learned the art of actually trying to enjoy a complete meal (not mixed, mind you, I do try to cleanse my palate before the next food is consumed) to decide which one I like best. Oh, no, maybe I do this so I can decide which one I’m going to eat last…maybe I haven’t really escaped it entirely! Oh well, it’s my food and I’ll eat it how and when I want to!

“Grease Monkey”: I may embarrass myself and others when eating pizza in that I don’t care where I am, I will take a napkin and dab the excess grease from my pizza. This habit is becoming less common because I’m finding it harder to eat pizza in my "elder, more hormonal years". I love it – but it don’t like me! The thought of putting that grease into my body is like running up to an Express Lube and asking to lick the pan. (Hasn’t stop me from consuming a funnel cake or two, however.)

“Seasoned or Waffle Fries with That, Ma-am?”: I’m a prejudice fry eater. I’m sorry…but I will not eat any fry that does not meet my credentials for perfection. I stop short of interviews, but I check them over with the fervor of a judge on Next Top Model. If they’re too crispy…NO! If they are too mushy…NO! If they have any discoloration…NO! Too much salt…NO! Too greasy…NO! Not goowd enough! I vhill nowt eat you! Go avay!

“Hold the Mayo Yeah, That's It… Just Keep Holding It”: I can detect mayo like a blood hound picks up a scent. I am proud to say that I have made great strides concerning this aversion also. I would never have put the stuff near my mouth three or four years ago. I’m not even sure as to what made me actually taste something that contained it, but today, I am able to eat SOME potato salads, SOME chicken salads, and spinach dip if it is not solely mayo based. But that’s it…not stickin’ my toe too far into that pool.

“Even Distribution of Goods”: This could actually be an addendum to the Meat Inspector, but it deserves to be on it’s on because of the story here-to-follow. When I am eating my sandwich or burger or any food for that matter, it all has to “look” right. It has to be evenly distributed. Just the right amount of meat to just the right amount of bread and a reasonable amount of condiment to flavor; just the perfect amount of cheese on that noodle in mac-n-cheese; the loaded mashed potatoes must have just the appropriate amount of cheese, bacon, etc to be considered worthy. If there happens to be too much bread, I’ll pinch it off and put it aside. If there’s too much meat, I take a bite of bread to even it out. If there’s too much mustard, ketchup, etc., well, that just gets wiped off. This oddity has even led me to a "cat fight" in the office with a fellow co-worker. After running to a nearby McDonald’s and getting two cheeseburgers, I returned to work and was joined by my friend in my office. After watching me eat for a minute or two, she asked me what I had gotten at McDonald’s. I told her and she remarked, “You should’ve just gotten a double cheeseburger meal!” I explained that I don’t like that big of a burger – it was too much meat and not enough bread. She then snarked back, “That’s just crazy! All you have to do is take the top off of one of the burgers you have and put them together and you have the same thing!” “But if I had wanted that, I would have ordered that!” I retorted. She continued to chide me about how stupid that was, and I held my ground on the fact that it was my taste buds and I would please them however I wanted!

OK – so I have food issues! I have heard it all from, “You don’t know what you’re missing!” to “You are so particular!” to “That’s just plain weird.” My mom was a great cook, one of those good Southern cooks – you know, the one who cooks good ol’ comfort foods. Chicken and dumplins – yuck; peas and cornbread – sickening; homemade vegetable or beef soup or gumbo – eeeewww; and biscuits and gravy – no way! How in the world did I manage to make it to the ripe old age of 36 and not suffer from severe malnutrition? How could I have managed to live in a household full of awesome foods and with such a great cook and not have a well-rounded appreciation for all things culinary? I pretty much survived off of hamburgers, chicken, peanut butter (thank God He spared me that one), jelly or ham sandwiches, pizza (greaseless, mind you), and spaghetti. Is it OCD, a habit conditionally formed from childhood, or just me being me…whatever the case, I don’t need an intervention. I have learned to eat a casserole (only certain ones), stomach mayonnaise (if hidden with enough disguises), and to mix it up on occasion by eating one or two bites of one thing and then one or two of another (after a palate cleanse). Why, I’ve even learned to try different foods if I find myself in a particularly brave and carefree mood. Who knows, I might even take a bite of my burger this week without looking at it, but let’s not get too crazy! So strange eaters unite! Let me know that I’m not alone in this savior faire of sustenance. And I will end on this note…VegAll is from Satan! No offense to the fans of this canned catastrophe, but I'll never be convinced otherwise on this one!