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Archiver > WARBRIDES > 2005-07 > 1121954285


From: Michele <>
Subject: Re: [WarBrides] Re: Strange Foods
Date: Thu, 21 Jul 2005 06:58:05 -0700 (PDT)
In-Reply-To: <42DEFA34.8020106@telus.net>


Great Story! My mom also didn't understand eating peanut butter. I had to beg her to by me some. She would touch it either. Of course after her grandchildren came, she learn to keep it in her cupboard. My boys sure could eat it.

Thanks for the story,
Michele

Keep them coming...

wrote:
Oh, yes, all of those mentioned plus peanut butter. I had never heard
of the stuff. We were at someone's house one evening when they passed
around a plate full of little quartered sandwiches. I bit into a piece
and tried to chew, instead I gurgled, gulped, choked, gargled and
couldn't swallow the strange taste in my mouth. The sandwiches also
contained slices of banana which managed to find their way up onto my
palate. The peanut butter and banana mixture nearly made me ill, I
simply could not swallow it. I was pregnant of course, so maybe that
made things worse. I still dislike peanut butter. As for corn, well, it
was the first clue I was pregnant because the smell of it cooking sent
me running outside. I never made it to the outhouse so barfed on the
wild rose bush by the back door.
The mention of whipped cream on everything also brought back some
unpleasant memories: somewhere 'out back' there was a cow that gave
buckets of milk every day which was fine except the time it got into the
weeds causing the most obnoxious flavour imaginable... erch... I headed
for the rose bush again.
We attended a weekly card playing group one winter where the women
served up the most delicious concoctions, always with whipped cream. The
main course had cream and the dessert was smothered in it. I put on
15lbs that winter. Whoever had a cow and some chickens would drop off a
couple of dozen eggs and a quart of cream just to be neighbourly.
The story about pulling the chicken reminded me that my husband brought
one home alive one day tucked under his arm. I wouldn't let him kill
it. I can still see its beady eyes blinking at me. I heard him whacking
its head off on the porch. I refused to cook it. He was completely
baffled and puzzled by my attitude. Everyone in town killed their own
chickens, didn't they?
Ah, memories, who brought this up anyway, you Michelle?
Hazel: don't tell anyone, but I always thought milk only came in bottles!



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Michèle, (Belgium War Baby - USS Brazil)
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