I'm in a Real Pickle

You know how those darn tomatoes are always sneaking into sandwiches? There's another food that is excellent at hiding and can ruin an entire meal. THE PICKLE. Small, cute, totally not suspicious looking. And yet, a stowaway. So easily hidden under some lettuce or a burger patty.

Pickles. BLECH. How can anyone stand them? My guess is that I don't like them because they are cucumbers soaked in vinegar, but I also love to eat salt and vinegar chips, or vinegar with my fish. The sooner you figure out that I'm a food hypocrite, the better. And I'm not a baby, so get that idea out of your head.

A few years ago, I was invited to eat dinner with a family. One of the children had told her mother over and over how much I love tomatoes, and that we must have tomatoes at the dinner. She said that knowing that I have a TRUE HATE for tomatoes. So her mother was like "I made sure and put in the freshest tomatoes I could find." The kid of course started cracking up and says "HA HA, Troubled Eater! I tricked you! Ha ha Mom, Troubled Eater hates tomatoes." I thought about eating one anyway to be polite, but I just couldn't do it. It just wasn't going to happen. They also had potato salad, which makes me gag. It was full of eggs, which makes it worse. I managed to keep it down.

Then, during the dinner, the mother asks me "Why don't you want any pickles?" They were canned pickles that she did at home. I hate pickles almost as much as I hate tomatoes. Seriously. I am completely repulsed by them. I smiled sweetly and said that I just didn't feel like any at the time, so that was why I hadn't taken any. She then proceeded to tell me her recipe. I knew at that point that I would have to eat one. I began fervently praying, "God, you are going to have to get me through this. I can't do this. Help me not to gag."

I cut up one into pieces, popped a small piece in my mouth, and at that moment, one of the siblings yelled and distracted everyone. That gave me time to gag, choke down some water, and then attempt a smile. The mom never suspected a thing. Dear readers, they were the nastiest things I've ever eaten. I hate pickles! I managed to eat one slice, but it swam around in my stomach for the rest of the night.

The Number One Offender

Let's just jump into the deep end of Troubled Eater's pool of neuroses.

Ah, the tomato. One of the most popular fruits/vegetables in the world. A popular garden choice for people growing their own produce. The fruit/vegetable of choice for sandwiches. One of the main characters in the "Fruit of the Loom" underwear commercials. Even the subject of wild fruit/vegetable throwing festivals such as La Tomatina in Spain. It comes in all shapes, sizes, and colors. You can find it in ketchup and salsa. It's a beloved fruit/vegetable.



And yet. It's the bane of my existence.

The tomato makes me want to hurl on the spot. There isn't one thing I don't find offensive about the tomato. The smell is noxious. I can't stand the feel of it. It's squishy, slimy, and juicy. It's just wrong on all levels. I try to remember to order sandwiches without it, but since I'm the Tomato Freak, people always forget to leave off the tomato. This means I have to carefully inspect the bun to find any rogue juices that may have absorbed into the bun. And a salad? It takes me ten years to eat one, because I have to carefully pick through each piece of the salad to find all the tomatoes. I wish I was allergic to them so people would take me more seriously about tomatoes!

Thankfully, I have found that I am not alone in my tomato discrimination. Check out Tomatoes are Evil. I'm so happy to know I'm not alone.

I'll leave you with a taste of La Tomatina. Does this look fun to you?



This is my own private hell.