Cottage Cheese

By popular demand (and by popular, I mean two people: TS and SF... thanks ladies!), the INGTET blog has been resurrected! Without further ado, I present to you, the repellent, revolting, and otherwise vom inducing cottage cheese. Prepare yourself. This post is going to be particularly disgusting. You may think less of me after it. I'm sorry. You're welcome.













Reason: Pure visual nightmare.

Why would ANYONE put ANYTHING that looks like this in their MOUTH?

Before I say anything else, I do have to admit that I have never actually tasted cottage cheese. By all accounts it is delicious (ug, I hate to even put that word in this post) and I would love the taste of it. Honestly, I don't doubt it. The thing is, they (and by they I mean the ubiquitous "they"... I guess the dairy industry) are going to have to change the way it looks a hell of a lot before it goes through these lips and past these gums. Don't worry stomach, here it doesn't come.

When I was a kid, my mom would often eat cottage cheese as an afternoon snack. I always kind of thought it looked like fish roe if fish roe were white and in white goop... and I imagine you know how I feel about roe. So, maybe alien roe in alien white goop. Insect eggs. The dreaded white m-bugs that hang around rotting meat. Nope. Not going in my mouth.

As if that weren't enough, my mother would always be putting other crap in it: honey, cocoa powder, maple syrup... whatever was in the house and could be considered "sweet." Ugghghh, no. Just... no. I wish you could hear the sound I just made.

As if THAT weren't enough, the modern interchangeable use of "cottage cheese" for "cellulite" just adds to this problem when one has an overactive imagination. Since around, oh, 1999, when I see cottage cheese, I always picture that scene in "Fight Club" where Edward Norton and Brad Pitt are stealing the lipo fat from the biohazard dumpster in order to render it and make soap. Remember when the bag catches on the razor wire and fat starts pouring all over them and all over creation? Yep. That's what I see when I see cottage cheese. Congratulations. Now you know.

In an odd twist, the most terrifying part of writing this post: while trying to locate a usable photo of cottage cheese, I came across this photo, which, given my history, is one of the most horrifying "snack foods" I've ever encountered.











This photo gave me vom sweats and dumb chills.

An INGTET Story: The Bridal Shower

ut(Before I say anything else, I feel that I should mention that I love that the acronym of this blog, INGTET; it sounds like a musical group with ING number of people... quartet, septet, ingtet. In fact, I may use that for a music-related something-or-other in the future. That is all.)

Several years ago, a good friend of mine got married. Let's call her JJ. By some lapse of judgment, all of us close friends of hers thought that it would be just fine to have JJ's bachelorette party the night before the very properly Martha Stewarted-out bridal shower being thrown for JJ by her mother's friends. We, of course, got tanked and sang karaoke at the party, and ended up all sleeping at our friend KB's house. We woke up with horrible hangovers, and there wasn't enough bathroom or hot water to allow us to all bathe that morning. We all left KB's house together (looking like hags and likely smelling we had vomited on each other all night) and headed for JJ's mother's suburban and perfect house, and to JJ's mother's friends' very perfect and proper bridal shower.

The kicker to the situation was that none of us had really eaten that morning. We thought that we'd arrive at this very lovely bridal shower and all would be put right with brunchy type fare. When we walked in the door, we were handed mugs of some kind of tomato soupy stuff that tasted quite good... but there was only about half a cup of it for each of us. I can't speak for anyone else (maybe I can, really), but I was so desperate for food that I was on the verge of passing out.

When we finally sat down for brunch, I was so happy that I was almost drooling.

And then it was put in front of me.

Egg soufflé.

One version of egg soufflé with mushrooms, one version of egg soufflé with cheese.

I was so disheartened by this that I almost started crying at the brunch table... the brunch table where sat all of my friends, JJ's mother, JJ's mother's perfect friends, and where a little river of kosher salt flowed down the middle of the table. With very watery eyes, I began to perform my well-practiced push-the-food-around-the-plate-because-it-makes-it-look-like-you're-eating-it routine.

Then I saw them. In a basket nearby were dozens of mini-muffins. "Mini-muffins," I thought. "These mini-muffins are what will save me."

I had a momentary relief as I reached for the basket. I pulled it closer to me. I saw yellowish muffins with little flecks of brown in them. Some kind of corn muffin? Hm, ok. I pulled one onto my plate. I tore it in half. The brown flecks were walnuts. I sank down into my seat.

I pushed the eggs around my plate some more. Their aroma hit my nose and swirled my stomach. And then the icing on the cake rolled around. (Heh, cake would have at least been something.)

KB, who was sitting sort of diagonally across the table from me loudly said, "PR! Are you not going to eat your eggs, 'cause I'll eat 'em!"

The room went sort of silent, and all eyes turned to me. All the Martha Stewart perfect eyes. Someone asked, "Are you allergic?" I can't honestly remember what I said. I may have said yes. I think a few of the other friends who knew what was going on deflected the topic somehow. KB reached over to switch plates with me. I yielded. At least the eggs wouldn't go to waste.

Lesson learned: If you're throwing a party and aren't publishing the menu, don't assume that everyone will like it. If you're attending a party and are super fucking picky, eat something small first and then whatever you like on the menu will be a bonus. Assume nothing, save face.

Pecans & Walnuts.

Reason: Taste, Texture & Minor Food Reaction.

Normally, I'm a nut for nuts (Come on! You saw that pun coming!), but in doing my research on this topic, I learned that walnuts and pecans are not true nuts, but members of the drupe family (single-stoned fruits like peaches, plums, cherries, etc. which I quite like). I was about to write off my problems with them as a problem with nutty drupes (make your own pun), when I discovered that almonds, my favorite non-nut, are also of the same classification. So I guess I don't get to get off that easily.

Walnuts and pecans taste bitter to me (though walnuts are especially so), and their weird not-quite-solid texture is a let down... but, that's not all.

I can't say that I'm allergic to these nuts. Allergy would include anaphylaxis and all of the not fun times thereof. These nuts just give me a sort of itchy and slightly bumpy feeling on my soft palate. I'm calling it a minor food reaction, but it's enough to keep me away from them.

This leads me to one of my favorite "I'm not going to eat that..." stories.

Melons.

Reason: Taste and Texture

I thought about listing each melon as its own separate entry, but that seemed a bit gratuitous. Seeing as how I can only come up with hard and fast complaints about 3 melons (though I don't like their distant cousins, squash/cucumbers, either), I thought it best to condense my rants into a single post.

Cantaloupes/Honeydews: There's something just not quite right about them. In this case, it's less about texture than taste. There's a weird metallic element to those two, and while I have tried them , I've never been able to get past that. The thought of eating cantaloupe with salt on it just adds to the atrocity.

Watermelon: The opposite is true with this one; I think their taste is something I could handle if it wasn't for the feeling of eating a mouthful of sand. What's more, I love the idea of watermelon and how it fits in to summer funtimes, and for that reason, I really wish I did like watermelon. However, I hate mealy tomatoes. The same feeling is extended to the watermelon.

Of all of the food items that people promote to me like it is their personal mission to win my conversion and thus garner all the brownie points in heaven, melons might be number one. As the blog grows, I might have more to add to that.

Bananas.

Reason: Smell, taste, texture.

I had a colleague last year who handled his banana (folks, these are literal bananas) every day at lunch. He'd remove it from the peel one piece at a time and it would get all over his fingers while he sort of played with it as he was chewing up the last piece. When he talked, there was banana goo all in his mouth. Someone eventually brought his handling of the banana to his attention and he stopped. I very much liked that colleague, but I did not like his bananas. I am guessing my dislike of his bananas is largely based upon my intense dislike of bananas in general.

I can remember eating banana chips on my cereal when I was a little kid, but I can't remember ever liking actual bananas. Everything about them is revolting to me (even though I have a room in my house that is painted almost a banana yellow... I prefer to call it "mustard" because I am definitely going to eat that). They just goosh through folks mouths while they eat them and then there are the mouth sounds which are... unsettling.

I appreciate the nutritional value of the banana, and I realize that they are a vital food crop both to national / international economies and diets around the world. That doesn't mean I can stomach them. I prefer to get my potassium elsewhere... like from a vitamin if I have to.

Pickles.

Reason: Texture and taste.

Le vom.

This is kind of a funny one because I can handle pickled onions in small amounts, and I love capers. Olives are ok if they're chopped just right... and if they're black olives. There's just something about the slimy outside and the not-so-great crunch of the inside that I can't stand... not to mention the flavor.

Also contributing to the disgust is the cucumber factor. Yeah, I'm not a huge fan of those, either. Poor pickle. You never even had a chance.

Avocados.

Reason: Texture and taste.

I grew up on a small avocado farm in California. When people hear that, they usually go bananas (which I'll get to later) because they think it would be heaven. I never grew a hankering for them, though our three dogs did. There were pits all over the lawn and the orchard.

I always thought it was because I was so stubborn that I just wouldn't try avocados. Then, one day, some avocado showed up in a burrito I was eating. It was revolting. End of story.

Eggs.

Reason: Texture, taste, smell, sight.

I can remember eating them as a little kid, but my dad once made me a whole mess of "green eggs" (you know, like Dr. Seuss), and they didn't stay put. Since that day I can stomach neither the smell nor the sight of eggs.

In my basement, I have an apartment that I rent out, usually to friends or acquaintances. The kitchen of that apartment is right below my bedroom. My friend Travis lived down there for about 6 months and every fucking morning he made eggs. I probably could have requested that he stop, but I either (a) am a glutton for punishment, or (b) didn't feel right about asking someone not to cook something that's perfectly reasonable to most people and offers a lot of good nutrients to those who choose to dig in. It's likely a bit of both.

It's typical of my father to have the best of food intentions, but for me to break his heart by either not eating something or having a vom later because it was gross. Here's the photo of the green eggs he made. You see if you egg-eaters can even stomach looking at them. Funny that the experience didn't put me off bacon. Honestly, the eggs in this photo look like they were affected by tint and hue retouching.

An INGTET Story: The Picky Etiquette

This blog is dedicated to all of the everyday food items I will not eat. Some people think I'm crazy, but I'm just picky. I'd be a great challenge on Top Chef.

People say to me all the time, "how do you know you don't like it if you won't try it?" I understand why this question makes sense to people. Allow me to answer.

First, I have tried most things that are on this list, and this list used to be much, MUCH longer. For example, I used to think onions were the most disgusting things in the world. Then, all of a sudden, one day, while I was working in Noah's Bagels as a slacker college grad, the onion-smelling walk-in refrigerator smelled really, really good to me. Since that day, I eat all kinds of onions. Tomatoes, asparagus, spinach... I'm a convert to all of those, and I started to like most of those in my 20s.

Another way to think about it: you know how a cat will generally avoid certain plants that are toxic to it? You know, that sort of 6th sense that says "don't bother"? I prefer to think of my avoidance like that. If it's just unappetizing to me and it's not necessary for me to eat it, why would I make myself do something that I find revolting? I trust my sense of smell when it comes to foodstuffs because it's never been wrong. I can't argue my sense of smell into submission.

Bitter is the devil. I've read stuff on supertasters and theories that say stuff like children may have evolved a dislike for bitter things because many poisons are bitter, and therefore, they're better off just not liking them. I never grew out of that. It would be a different story if I were living on nothing but cookies and beer, but that's not the case. Based on this, yes, I believe I am a supertaster (connotations of "super" aside... it just means beyond, it doesn't mean superior).

Also, if it's going to cause me stress and heartache because I then have to tell you that I don't like the ______ that you made, I'd rather just avoid it all together. You and I are both better off... no one feels slighted, no one feels guilty for not loving something made by someone they love. I do love you, and I want to like your ______, but there's often no accounting for revulsion.

All of that said, I really do my best to make it look like I like something even when I don't. It's well within the realm of politeness and consideration to fake it. If flat-out asked whether I like something, I'll usually find something good to say about it, even if I can't eat it. If I can't find something good to say about it, I'll break the news to you gently. I'll tell you how this played out with Czech relatives in Prague sometime.

Anyhoo, now that I feel like I've over-justified and over-defended my stance, I'll get to the posting. Like the subtitle says, I am aware that you think I'm crazy. I just can't help it.