its not just me then.......
How I rejoice in my new found individual collectiveness.

I too eat my meals, (sunday lunch in particular), in the style of one foodstuff at a time, leaving the best till last.

So it goes thus:
Carrots,
Green beans,
Peas,
Roasties,
Yorkie Pud,
Boiled Pots,
Vast quantities of meat. Any meat.
MMMMMMMMM MEAT YEAH
OH MY GOD I LOVE MEAT OHHHHHHHHHH.

*ahem*

so glad I've found some felow freaksters!
(UnstableDan Bah, Humbug! ooooh, humbugs, nyom!, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 10:05, Reply)

Milky milky
I know of a guy who dunks bourbon biscuits in cold milk, oh and he loves beef Hula Hoops but will only eat them out of a bowl. Both of which seem a little quirky of me.
( abefroman skating on the thin life of modern life on, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 10:04, Reply)

Just been reminded...
...of this interesting fellow.

A friend from work, about my age (22), doing the same job (IT helpdesk). There the similarity ends. I rent my own flat. He lives with his parents. I cook my own meals, do my own cleaning, washing, washing up, pay my bills, pay my tax. His mummy does all that for him.

One day, he expressed disgust at the wonderful (and cheap) fresh veg I had just bought from the outdoor market across the road from the office. "It's been outside where birds can crap on it and rain get get on it. It's unhygenic". He failed to understand that the veg was CREATED in a far dirtier place, and had most likely had faeces spread over it. I think he didn't realise that you wash your veg before eating it because, of course, mummy does all that for him.

We set him a challenge; I bought a carrot from Morrisons and another from the market. We prepared them both identically: washed, cut up, presented to him on two plates. He was to pick which he thought was the squeaky-clean Morrisons carrot, and which the horrible, dirty market carrot. He looked at them, smelled them, tasted them, and firmly declared the tastiest one the Morrisons one.

Of course, I lied. Both carrots were from the market.

One day he's not going to live with his parents. He'll find that his clothes don't magically clean themselves, that electricity, water and gas doesn't come for free, and that getting your veg shrink-wrapped in plastic from the supermarket isn't worth it. Because, at the end of the day, you're paying extra to have the supermarket wash your veg for you, and I would rather trust my own hands and my own sink than their mystery methods.

Oh dear, now I sound picky!
(Musuko, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 9:59, Reply)

cats continued
my cat eats earwax. in fact it goes mental for it, sometimes licking yer ears out whilst you sleep.

i hate that animal...
(hotpiss is very much liking your popping musics, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 9:25, Reply)

Cats
My own research has led me to conclude that cats have little or no sense of taste and judge food purely by smell and instinct. Consider the evidence:

Cat food has a powerful smell and appears to be 'tasty' from a human point of view, what with its rabbit and chicken and liver and whatever. But cats will just as happily eat a raw mouse, a dead bird or a meatball that I threw out of the window three weeks ago. Where's their discerning taste buds now? And they lick their own posteriors ... and their feet - can't they taste them?

I once tried a new brand of cat food on a cat. It wouldn't eat it and just left it untouched in the bowl. But after three days of not being fed, the cat soon developed a taste for it - fussy little shit. I've seen cats lick up spilled pepper, too, with no ill effects.

They'd eat their owners as well if you dropped dead and there was no-one to feed them - which puts vegetarianism into a new perspective.
(frankspencer, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 9:08, Reply)

knackers
Sheep testicles in a little Turkish place on Mare Street in Hackney. Odd texture, like a crunchier version of chicken, and tasted of... errr... not a lot really. The sauce was nice tho. I found them easier to eat if you cut them in half first. The first 'pop' as your teeth pierced the skin was a tad disconcerting.
(kaptinkurtz, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 9:05, Reply)

Hospital Food
I can't eat that reheated, congealed, vile looking, bland shite. I'm sure it's healthy, but a little salt, pepper and herbs would go a lont way (And I mean only a little as it only takes a little to season food doesn't it)

Is it can't or won't - I'm sure you've all been in hospital at some point.

I've tried it and it turns out that I can't because it's just vile - then I won't eat it for the same reason.

True story.
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 9:02, Reply)

Wotsits
I knew a friend of a friend who hated wotsits. You know the ones the "cheesy" type snack things.

I like them, but after a while they just taste like those packing things that you get in boxes.

Which leads us nicely onto this link.

It turns out that the friend had been giving his friend wotsits. Well, actually, he'd been giving him those packing things and insisting that they were wotsits. Imagine his horror when his friend ate about half a dozen of them without noticing.

I, personally, don't want to think about his insides after eating those. I also don't accept wotsits from anyone.

I'll add that this was NOT me - I wouldn't be so mean. Well, I wouldn't be so mean as to let the guy ACTUALLY eat them....

Really

:-)
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 9:01, Reply)

And while we're at it...
Could everyone stop saying "can't" when they mean "won't"?

You can't eat something when eating it means a visit to the hospital. It's not "can't" when you simply don't like it. It's not "can't" when you've got an obsessive-compulsive quirk that you only have because it's easier to put up with than to defeat. It's not "can't" when it's an affectation. It's not "can't" when you just choose not to, for whatever reason. It's not even "can't" when it'll give you an hour on the loo.

If eating it when starving means a greater, not lesser, chance of survival, then it's "won't".

Umm...

...I don't like pears very much, but pears and parmazan is nice.
(Musuko, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 8:53, Reply)

Sheeps brains
Tastes like chicken.

I've tried crocodile.

Tastes like chicken.

Have you noticed that the odd foods out there often tastes like chicken?

If you want to try something odd and you like chicken, give it a go, you might find that everything tastes like chicken.

Mind you, when you've got a cold, everything tastes like styrofoam....
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 8:53, Reply)

Vegetarians and vegans
They seem to be getting a bad time of it here, and it's understandable hearing some of the stories. Anybody who feels they have the right to force their diet on somebody else needs a smack in the face. I don't try to take the meat out of my friends' dinners just as they don't try to put it into mine.

If you have a moral case against eating meat, state your case and let people decide. Call them murderers and tell them that they are evil, however, and you're no better than the fundies holding "god hates fags" signs.

Rant over.

I'm not a fan of sweetcorn. It's pretty nice on the cob, but the smell of the stuff out of the tins is not. I used to hate onion when I was little (it was the squeaky texture as my teeth grated against it) and would detect it no matter how cunning my mum's cooking had been. But I adore it now.

Budget, vegetarianism, and location (supurb fruit and veg market across the road from work) means I cook all my own dinners from scratch. It usually means I have no excuse to be picky; if I don't like what's on my plate, I have only myself to blame!
(Musuko, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 8:20, Reply)

choc-flavour
I can't eat anything chocolate flavoured (cake, milkshake, pudding etc, but I do like chocolate every now and then.
Apart form that I'll eat anything once and have tried most of the strange dishes in the world.

I don't think I could eat monkey brains though.
(toadrunner, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 8:06, Reply)

Chilliburgers
I had a chilliburger and chillicheesefries for lunch, and when I did a poo it all came out my bum looking like chilli.

I don't want to eat that anymore.
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 7:18, Reply)

I've never ever EVER been a fussy eater.
That said, 7 years back I took a job as staff nurse on a burns unit.

The day I saw my first 'big burn', big being described as 'anything more than 15% total body surface area skin loss', that day was the day I gave up eating bacon.

I now know why human flesh is referred to as 'long pig'.

'cos burnt person smells exactly the same as burnt pig.

I have since recovered from this and am able to eat bacon again, but I'll never, ever, ever be able to eat it crispy.
( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 3:56, Reply)

I
don't drink anything but water. I once tried hot chocolate, hated it. Had sips of some sodas, but hated them. Something about not wanting flavor in my drink.

Yet I love soup...
(SpiffyBalak, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 2:37, Reply)

I'm scared
of missing the end of the QOTW.

Bugger.
( idonthaveafunnynickname Drink-Aware? Sure. I'm aware I want another drink., Tue 6 Mar 2007, 2:34, Reply)

You Say "Tomato", I Say "Fuck Off"
I can't stand tomatoes, and in particular their vile offspring, tomato ketchup. I can't bear to even look at it, never mind taste it, smell it... ugh.

So I was fairly displeased this afternoon whilst washing the dishes when I came to the last plate, and it was completely smeared in the dreaded slurry. I didn't even attempt to wash it; I just wretched, doubled over, dry-heaved and walked out the kitchen.

I know, I'm pathetic. I'm a grown man, and I'm washing the dishes.
(Utter Bobbins Thanks For Your Cunting Time, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 1:51, Reply)

I'm
always being accused of being "too picky." I'm anorexic (but not as bad as I used to be) as well as being vegetarian/borderline vegan.

I've tried to eat meat again (doctor's orders) but I've found I've after nine years I've developed an intolerance to it, cue three days of cramps and shits if I eat the stuff.

When I was a kid my primary school wanted to send me to a psychologist as I was the only kid they'd ever known to refuse biscuits.

I'll only eat toast if it's gone cold first; can't stand it when it's hot as the margerine goes soggy (never butter). Usually with tea, but only semi-skimmed milk and 3/4 of a spoon of sugar. I won't eat white bread, eggs, broccoli/cauliflower or anything fried. I also won't eat ANYTHING anyone else has cooked. If they've so much as opened a tin of soup for me, I have to open a fresh one.

Anyway, I can't believe I almost forgot this one! I work in a fast food resturant that serves chicken and, among other things, sweetcorn.
Don't get me wrong, I do love sweetcorn. I can just never eat it again after one sleepy Sunday shift. The way corn is prepared is to dip it in butter, roll it in iddy-biddy plastic bags, put a stick in the top then put it through a machine that seals it all up.
So I'm doing this for about ten minutes, then I notice one corn cob that's a little bit blackened. I looked around to make sure no-one was watching, then promptly stuck my finger in it. I don't know whether it was my scream, or the speed at which I ran which got everyone's attention as legged it to the sink at the other end of the shop as a black, crunchy and fully-cooked maggot immerged from the corn cobette. I can never eat sweetcorn again. Ever. It's part of my job to prepare the stuff, but I refused to do it for a month, then relented when given a pair of gloves.

Fear of sweetcorn; I'd say I'm unique.

(But yet, I'm always happy to swallow...)
(Lupetherabbit Went straight into smirk mode on, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 0:45, Reply)

Strange and possibly picky eating habits
After years of being made ill by my mother's crappy cooking, I have developed a physical reaction to eating lamb. I can't face the smell of it or thought of eating it, it's guaranteed to make me vom.
weird? maybe. I'm slightly concerned that I'm missing out on the chance to eat a tasty food.
(Dangermouse., Tue 6 Mar 2007, 0:42, Reply)

My Dad hates cheese
He can't stand cheese, my Dad. Any kind of cheese, cooked, raw, melted, used in any food product: he just doesn't want to know. He hates it so much that if I'm making pizza, the smell of the cheese cooking forces him to leave the room sometimes. Philadelphia on toast? No way. Cheese and onion crisps? You're kidding, right? And so on.

My Mum, however, managed to convince my Dad that cheesecake was completely lacking in cheese, despite the name. He's quite partial to a nice piece of cheesecake. Or he was, until my Aunt saw him eating it at a buffet and asked him how he can eat cheesecake, given the fact that he hates cheese.

'Oh, there's no cheese in cheesecake,' he replied. My aunt set him straight while the rest of us were silently cursing her. Now my Dad hates cheesecake. It's got cheese in it, you see.
(Fuiru Sting, where is thy death?, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 0:19, Reply)

Liver
Cant eat this at all now: not a fussy eater, cheerfully chomp on most organs, probably shouldnt admit that

the problem with liver is its a kind of universal organ and pigs liver and lambs liver smell very similar to human liver, rank smell I spent my first ever postmortem fighting back the dry heaves, and havent been able to stomach it since.... theres a reason its called offal/awful

Got to be careful about olives too as the cheapy ones smell very like formaldehyde and again theres a faint sense of dissecting ones salad...
(cut-out and kelp, Tue 6 Mar 2007, 0:06, Reply)

Subway faffin'
An ex-GF was fussy about not only what went into her Subway sandwich, but also the order things went into her sandwich.

I'd often get sent to the local Subway to pick up subs, esp. if there were friends over and we were priming ourselves for a night on the piss. Clutching a note I'd carefully recite the GF's order: "A six-inch turkey on wholewheat with lettuce. Then the turkey and then some mushrooms - no, sorry - then tomatoes and then mushrooms. Then half the cheese. Then onions and then sprouts and then the rest of the cheese. Then some cucumber. And then mayonaisse. With pickles on top. Then salt. Then pepper".

. . . I just guessed and put my bogey 'twixt the tomatoes and the mushrooms.
(ring-finger is also a verb, Mon 5 Mar 2007, 23:16, Reply)

i don't like potatoes
not even roast ones, or jacket ones or wedge ones or mashed one's. but i will eat chips
( the.jokl @jonksson, Mon 5 Mar 2007, 23:04, Reply)

Fussy Felines
The feline penchants for eccentricity and strangeness never cease to amuse when it comes to food.

Okay, having opened a few cans of cat food and been rewarded with a stench which rivals that of a Grimsby prostitute's week-old knickers, I can wholly understand your average kitty's aversion to tinned food and the desire to try something new.

My much missed moggy Leonard took this to extremes. He'd at some point cultivated a taste for curry, so much so that if I was making one I had to set some aside for him. He also loved munching onion bhajees too which were a firm favorite. The surreal sight of a small serving of chicken jalfrezi, a chunk of naan bread and a bhajee presented in a bowl clearly labeled "CAT" had him licking his chops in anticipation. Indeed, he was one highly motivated cat, happily sitting and begging on command (I swear this is true, I have witnesses) provided he was rewarded with something spicy and tasty.

Spiciness did not deter him one bit, although I quite disappointed that I could never get him interested in beer, despite frequent experimentation with several types of lager/bitter. I can only assume that he was more into spirits, but there was no way I was going to waste ten year old Ardbeg on him.

This was all quite endearing to a point, except that spicy food had a horrific effect on his innards, making him guff like a donkey. Not at all nice when he's curled up in your lap.

Still, I've dated worse. Meh.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Mon 5 Mar 2007, 22:45, Reply)

Bluuuuuuue.
I am the least picky eater that I know. I'm strongly lactose intolerant, and even as a youngun', cauliflower made me get stomach cramps....but I still eat both of those on occasion. Because they are delicious. I also love tomatoes, fish of all types, zucchini, eggs and pretty much everything that other folk don't like. This generally means that I get the most food for 'not being picky' and it's aces. Haha....fun fact: I'm super skinny. Anyways...

My one exception is that I will not eat anything artificially coloured blue. That fake berry taste that goes with it is fucking nasty, and makes me want to retch. I don't understand the appeal of it AT ALL.
(kablaaamo, Mon 5 Mar 2007, 22:42, Reply)

Me
Just talked to Mrs Kite and about the only thing I dont like (and I havent seen it mentioned yet) is Liver - WTF an animals piss filter ?
Sprouts are great though.
(kitescreech still here, Mon 5 Mar 2007, 22:37, Reply)

Meat is murder
but fish is justifiable homicide.
(Mong The Merciless Older not wiser, Mon 5 Mar 2007, 22:22, Reply)

Fascism
My friends have all informed me that i am apparently a food fascist...
I will eat all of one particular type of food, before moving on to the next. Usually in reverse order of goodness. Makes sense to me.
(badgerlikespeed, Mon 5 Mar 2007, 22:00, Reply)

Is it me? Yes.
From babyhood until the age of nineteen, I would only eat:

- branflakes
- bread
- milk
- lancashire cheese
- fishfingers
- Granny Smiths
- chips
- Seabrook's Salt and Vinegar Crisps
- Sausages, and (a revelation when I was 15)
- Margherita pizza.

Now, there's been plenty of nonsense spouted on here along the lines of "parents shouldn't put up with this shit...yargh skiffle blah."

Well. My poor parents tried EVERYTHING to get me to eat normally - cajoles, threats, not letting me have anything else (redundant after I grew tall enough to reach the cereal cupboard) social embarrasment, wailing and nashing of teeth etc. And nothing worked. Because every time I tried to eat something not on above menu, I would be physically unable to swallow it, and just keep chewing and chewing until I eventually wretched.
Psychosomatic? Yes, but that doesn't make it any less real. Believe me, by the time I was a teenager no-one was more keen than me on the idea of eating normally.

Worse than anything else was the unsympathetic-bordering-on-offensive attitude of a few other people's parents, who would treat it - bearing in mind I would always warn them in advance - like a personal insult and make the whole unfortunate situation into a big issue and make me even more anxious about food than I already was. So, words of advice -

Parents - if you come across a kid with funny eating habits, for God's sake don't be offended or make a fuss. Just tolerate it. The whole thing is far worse for them than it is for you. And if it's your sprog who refuses to eat anything but jam sandwiches well beyond the fussy stage, relax - the affliction vanished almostly instantly (and inexplicably) when I went to uni. I'm 21 now and I will eat almost anything and like it.

Apart from tuna. Fucking hate tuna.

Miaow.

/rant
(jennymnemonic, Mon 5 Mar 2007, 21:33, Reply)

Going to Japan.....
...cured me of being a fussy eater. After you've eaten Fugu and lived (actually I didn't even notice that I'd eaten it - I did wonder why the chef was stood at the door as I left - probably making sure that I walked out alive!)

During the meal, my wife noticed that the 'chargrilled sliced onions' that garnished the rice each had a pair of little eyes! We called them 'Onion Fish'.

Now I go look for the sassiest things on the menu, like 'Marinated Shredded Jelly Fish' Yum!
(CADmonkey rollllllllled another one, just like the other one, Mon 5 Mar 2007, 20:55, Reply)