Ah, the weekly torture session for the Food Virgin. Once again, I abuse my pallet with concoctions dreamed up by beautiful , caring, understanding, yet slightly sadistic wife, in an effort to become more adult-like in limited scenarios. To be honest, I am as immature as they come and I feel like putting on my big boy pants once a week to try some new foods is a step in the right direction. Declarations such as these are met by Lisa with an eye roll, a demure smile and a comment usually along the lines of, “the dog has a more sophisticated pallet than you, dear.” Not to be out done by the great Linkovich Chomofsky, or “Link” for short, I would argue I am not self-recycling like the dog and he will eat anything.
This week’s challenge comes from a home cooked meal. I must say that Lisa is an excellent cook. I must also say that Lisa hates to cook. Her hatred stems from two points; 1.) She much prefers being waited on and 2.) Her husband is so picky that she essentially has to make two meals whenever she cooks or relegate what she cooks to a very limited series of options. I have been getting better and I try to not hold her back but Lisa could essentially be a vegetarian if I didn’t think vegetables were evil beings sent back in time to make me retch during meals…oh and kill John Connor. (Don’t worry if this one goes over your head. I’m a huge nerd.) So in attempt to be more adult I agree to Lisa requests. This week I have to try roasted acorn squash.
I know what you are thinking. This is doomed for failure. I admit that I gave this no chance in hell of even being remotely edible. Cue the MSPaint drawing of a pumpkin stabbing me in the back, as I do love Halloween. Maybe next week I will post some pics of this year’s Halloween costume… The acorn squash was expertly prepared by my loving wife with real butter, brown sugar and real maple syrup and roasted in the oven. I explained to her that I did not want to insult her by puking all over the dining room table and she explained that if I didn’t eat the GD squash she would stab me (Dramatization. May not have actually happened). Lisa also explained that the squash is closely related to a potato and I would marry a potato if it was legal. Thus, I tried the squash.
I admit it. I did enjoy it. It really tasted just like a potato, a sweet potato, but a potato none the less. I didn’t die. I didn’t puke. Most of all, Lisa didn’t stab me. I am going to chalk this up as a big ol’ Food Virgin win!