I woke up on Sunday morning late for church. :( So, I decided to make some chicken soup and take it to my sick dad. I got out my Betty Crocker cookbook (A book that has previously been used more as a decoration than as an actual cook book.) and followed the recipe (ish). It turned out pretty good. My dad loved it. While I am excited that my first foray into the wonderful world of soups was a success, that isn't really my point here.
I was cutting the onion required in the recipe. I have a love/hate relationship with cutting onions. I love that sound, that crispy crunch, and that feeling as the blade of my knife slides through the layers. It makes me feel like I have some reason for being in the kitchen, like I almost know what I'm doing. But soon thereafter, only two or three crunches into cutting my eyes begin pouring....the hate part of that relationship. And I tried to wipe the tears with my sleeve I began to think.... Who was the first person to cut open an onion, begin to cry uncontrollably, and then think "Hmmm, I bet this would taste good." I wish I could have been there to see that.
Anyway, I think that about a lot of foods I like. Am I alone in this? Does anyone else out there think that about a particular food? Let me know. I'd love to hear.
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1 comment:
thats hilarious! I have never thought about that!! i do wonder how we started eating a lot of the things that we eat! i mean you gotta be pretty brave to think that a fig looks good...or a potato..yuck it's brown its dirty... and how did we pick which animals would be ok to eat and which wouldnt....thought provoking
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