Tape Worms and Cookies

Sometimes I am overcome with a need to inform people about some of my particularly weird habits. Yesterday I was meeting with a student (I work at a college) and we began discussing french fry preferences. I, personally, have a hierarchy of deep fried potato food stuffs. Waffles fries are what all other fries aspire to be (specifically the one's from Jethro's BBQ in Des Moines). The ratio of potato to crispy exterior is ideal, the size is made for perfect distribution of dipping sauces, and they just never disappoint. After a lengthy discussion of fries, we delved into the topic of weird food cravings. Apparently, this students babysitter had a penchant for mayonnaise and bananas. Just think about that for a second. Not only does the flavor combination seem absolutely repulsive, but the texture….oh god the texture. Even thinking about it now, I can still feel the mushy, creamy abomination in my mouth. 

This spurred me to think of any weird food preferences I have. I suppose that what makes me different isn't the weird foods I do like, but rather, the totally common and mundane items I find remarkably disgusting. For example, would you believe that never in my entire life (all 25 years) have I consumed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. In my mind, sandwiches are intended to be savory, not sweet, and since when does peanut butter go with fruity goo? To me, the PB&J is a reflection of the downtrodden American soul. It's that damn depressing.

You see, I have a lot of these food based idiosyncrasies. Perhaps what everyone seems to be the most astonished about is my vehement rejection of all sweet foods that are any warmer than room temperature. 

Gooey cookies? No. 

Warm pie? No. 

Fresh-from-the-oven brownies? No. 

Hot fudge sundaes? No

Now, I have never had much of a sweet tooth, but I can't recall a time when I have ever craved a melty chocolate chip cookie. It doesn't even sound good. That said, I gave it a try once. It was awful. Chocolate on everything. Immense thirst. Wanting the whole experience to end as quickly as it started.

I can't explain how I developed such a particular preference, but I have one theory. You see, I am a damn good cook. I don't enjoy baking too much, but I know my way around a kitchen (I am a woman, after all. BUH DUM TISS). Baking takes time, patience, and precision. Baking also yields various delicious doughs. All of the patience creates an insatiable hunger that must be met. So, put two and two together and fifteen minutes in I have salmonella and potentially a tape worm (not really). By the time the timer goes off, I want nothing to do with whatever it produced. I feel full and have no desire to ever look at a packet of sugar again. That's my theory: ate too much dough that when the product was finally done I was already over it, only to decide to enjoy it five hours later when it was nice and cold.

So if you are ever in line at a coffee shop and hear someone act inordinately offended when the barista asks if they want their muffin heated up, it is most likely me.