Writer's Block: Ewww
What is one food that you refuse to try? Why?
Usually these are stupid, but I confess, I found this one compelling. For my whole life, I've basically had a "I'll try anything once," approach to food. It's part of my philosophy that, well hell, my patron deity is the Creator of the universe, and all its various and sundry permutations, that there are an infinite number of sensual experiences, each with its own artistic content, reflecting the infinite imagination of God.
But I could never bring myself to try roasted, salted ants.
I remember when I first had the chance. I was at a party, where there was plenty of beer to rinse my mouth out with. It was presented in a clear plastic package, the outside of which depicted a boy at a carnival, holding a balloon.
I took one out of the package, held it up to the light, and instantly wanted to hurl. I kept telling myself: "It can't be that bad. It's no worse than any other dead thing you have ever eaten." Something about looking at the thing, curled up into the fetal position, half an antenna roasted off on one side, legs all bunched up up the center like it had been alive until it was unceremoniously salted and popped into a hot oven.
Maybe it was just because it was SO not kosher, but I could not overcome the gag reflex.
So there it is, my secret shame: I will never eat an ant.
Usually these are stupid, but I confess, I found this one compelling. For my whole life, I've basically had a "I'll try anything once," approach to food. It's part of my philosophy that, well hell, my patron deity is the Creator of the universe, and all its various and sundry permutations, that there are an infinite number of sensual experiences, each with its own artistic content, reflecting the infinite imagination of God.
But I could never bring myself to try roasted, salted ants.
I remember when I first had the chance. I was at a party, where there was plenty of beer to rinse my mouth out with. It was presented in a clear plastic package, the outside of which depicted a boy at a carnival, holding a balloon.
I took one out of the package, held it up to the light, and instantly wanted to hurl. I kept telling myself: "It can't be that bad. It's no worse than any other dead thing you have ever eaten." Something about looking at the thing, curled up into the fetal position, half an antenna roasted off on one side, legs all bunched up up the center like it had been alive until it was unceremoniously salted and popped into a hot oven.
Maybe it was just because it was SO not kosher, but I could not overcome the gag reflex.
So there it is, my secret shame: I will never eat an ant.