Food is such a strange thing. When you think about it, as humans we eat a thing that we grow or buy and shove it through a hole in our bodies, but then later on you don’t even keep it in your body. Anyways… I’m here and I’m going to be discussing my journey with trying food that I have never tried before/ food that I used to hate or that I have “said” that I “hate” because I thought that I would hate it. And you all know what I’m talking about. And along the way ill be chatting with some folks I find on campus and asking about some bad experiences they have had with food.
So my best friend Mason and I were driving to Rutland and I decided to strike her with a question. I asked her if she has had any terrible food incidents (that have happened to her) and before she answered, she had a slight pause followed with a gag and some explicit hand movements.
Boy I knew this was going to be good.
When my friend said salmon pea wiggle, I almost lost it. What the HECK is salmon pea wiggle? it sounds like a gelatin with salmon bits wiggling around with some pea sauce.
I bet that is what she wished it looked like.
I asked her to elaborate on this experience and she started off by saying it’s a concoction that her mom forced her to eat.
“It was a mush of pink goo and she would crush saltines up and put it all in the mush and it made me want to vomit. She wouldn’t let me leave until I finished it,” she said.
My automatic thought after hearing this was that I needed to see it. After I forced her to Google(d) a picture of it, we found out that it isn’t just a thing that her mom slapped together, it was a real (life) recipe.
Why on earth is this a real recipe? It looked like what you throw up after eating a huge plate of sushi and drinking too much pink Moscato on a Tuesday night while you cry over the Bachelorette because Jordan didn’t chose Robbie. Don’t ask me how I know this…I just do.
For about four minutes straight, she just gripped the steering wheel and said “oh my God” and jerked her body around, trying to shake the terrifying flashbacks she was having.
“The only reason I had to eat it was because my dad liked it. And I wanted to muurdeerrrrrrrr myself,” she said.
I made her read the ingredients online and in between a couple of words I’d hear:
“Ooh! God! Gross!”
I could tell she was starting to become queasy and I couldn’t help but laugh. She then threw her phone in a nervous fumble toward me and we didn’t bring it up again.