Moose.Yuk. Aaah

When I was growing up, my parents instilled general manners in me. You know the kind...

No hitting your sisters or you'll get the bash
No biting your sisters, or you'll get the bash
(I can't include my brother because all I did was cuddle and squeeze him)
No elbows on the dinner table.
Wash your hands after going to the bathroom
Don't EVER lie...because I will always know...I can tell by looking into your eyes if you're lying (closing my eyes didn't work...get caught lying and you'll get the bash)
Always say "please" if you're asking for something.
Always say "thank you" if you've been given anything.
Don't talk with food in your mouth.
No swearing, or you'll get the bash.
Chew with your mouth closed.
Don't fart at the dinner table. (Doing this can make a delicious meal instantly taste like crap...it's a big no no. My ex did this once years ago...to be met with a look from 5 year old Cameron and "Aw Dad, now my food's gonna taste like poos")
Eat everything on your plate that's put in front of you

Now...that last one can find me in some interesting situations. When I was younger I had a thing about eating meat...not that I was a budding vegetarian or anything, but I would sit at the dinner table chewing, chewing, chewing. (Writing this now, it's making me wonder if it was my Mum's fault for not cooking better.) While all this chewing was happening, I was usually the only one left at the table. The rest of them had finished and buggered off to do whatever they did back then...I don't know what that was cos I was busy chewing and gagging.

My father would yell out to me from the lounge "If you haven't finished that in the next 10 minutes I'm going to come back in there and give you the bash!" Well sheesh...there's incentive to make my throat close up right there. Then: "1....2....3.....4...." Mum interrupting "Kingi, that's seconds, not minutes". (You tell him, Mum!) Being brought up with all kinds of pets, I have to wonder where the dogs were at the time...they could've saved me from many a chewing/gagging dinner session.

As I grew up, meat got easier to deal with but there have been a few other things that I can't stomach. Things like haggis, kidneys, liver. These are things that I try my best to avoid. Capsicum is another one. I've even told people I'm allergic to it so they don't serve it up to me *blush*. (Yet, it's an important part of my vegetarian lasagne..which I certainly eat, so I don't know what's up with that).

While in Canada last year, I discovered one more to add to the list. Moussaka. I discovered this at a very inappropriate time. While I was at Walker's parents for dinner. We had been there for dinner the week before with a friend who'd come down from Toronto to stay for a week (the fact she stayed for a whole week is another post entirely lol)....this friend of ours loved moussaka...and said so very loudly...yet Walker's mum hadn't cooked it that night. It was served up the following week after our friend had returned to Toronto.

Walker's parents always served up so much food, the dinner table was covered with all manner of home baked bread, chicken, pork, salads etc. Obviously the moussaka was present too. I had a feeling I wasn't going to enjoy it too much, but what the hell...can't say that unless I try it...no proof otherwise right? I felt obligated to take a small portion of moussaka.

Eggplant...hmm...looks like a big swollen kidney to me. I cut a small piece off my portion and put it in my mouth....the moment it went in, my mouth wanted to reject it immediately. I was sitting there with a mouthful of moussaka, wanting desperately to spit it back on my plate. The thoughts were running amock in my brain...they were having a damn party up there and laughing their arses off at my dilemma.

- I have to eat this, I've been brought up to eat everything I'm served up.
- How stupid that I should serve this up to myself...what the hell's wrong with me??
- Oh god, this wasn't even cooked for me
- Maybe I could spit this into my napkin? No...too obvious
- But the thought that this wonderful woman cooked this especially is very touching
- Damn [friend from Toronto's name]! This was all her fault!
- The woman who cooked this is my boyfriend's mother
- I've already had to endure his father's home made wine, several times...I think that should be enough physical sacrifice for one trip
- I have an impression to make here...spitting out food is not a good one
- I should be saying "Mmmm, delicious" or something akin to that, but I'd be lying
- I can't even chew this and breathe through my mouth at the same time...that would mean I'm showing the contents of my mouth...oh god, oh god, oh god!
- What to do? What to DO??!

I looked at Walker. He wasn't going to be any help, he hates the stuff. In fact, I do believe he looked amused. There was no way I was going to be able to finish the portion that was still on my plate. But the least I could do is finish what was in my mouth. I chewed slowly, politely...and swallowed. I have no idea what my facial expression looked like, and although I did my best not to betray the above thoughts, I expect it was apparent I wasn't enjoying it.

I washed it down with his Dad's home made wine...It may wipe out my gizzard in the process, but I felt sure it would kill my tastebuds too, and as far as I was concerned, that's all that mattered.

So...yeah...Moussaka is now on the list. Anything you can't stand to eat?