You can tell a lot about a person by what rests, temporarily, on his/her dinner dish. I am sure you have done it at one time or another, judged a person by their plate; eating too little, eating too much, a sauce fanatic, the salt junkie, the BK resident (always wanting food his/her way), the vegetarian, the protein buff, and so on.
I am fairly predictable. I love carbs (rice, delicious dinner rolls, pasta, potatoes...) and I slowly savor vegetables; there is no limit to the veggie world's real estate as far as my plate is concerned. I usually stick to poultry-chicken or turkey-and the occasional seafood entree of salmon or crab cakes. As far as condiments are concerned, I typically favor ketchup and barbecue sauce to all others. If I can't distinguish what something is, I stay away. Soup or salad? Salad all the way (Italian dressing, please). I'm pretty simple and usually stick to classic, routine dishes.
Vegetarian I am not, but I do carry a certain stigma toward meat. I blame it on a tragic occurrence at the tender age of five for this condition my husband deems as "unnatural". Inching ever-so-slowly toward an Adirondack lake's edge, my foot searched for stability atop a slimy, floating deceased-yet plump-frog. By my reaction you would have thought I lost a limb, but worse. I can not look at, touch, smell, taste, or consume any portion of meat that resembles (in my presence) the animal it once was. Examples: slabs of steak, ribs, shrimp, lobster or crab claws/legs/tails/other random body parts, turkey carcasses (displayed on Thanksgiving tables), breasts of chicken with bones, fish with skin/scales-ick!, barbecue displayed as pigs' butts/thighs/whole bodies, big chunks of ham, pork roasts, and so much more. Yes I get grossed out, but I also feel bad for the little (or big) guys. In such moments I consider converting to the herbivore side, but then I think of Chic-fil-A and the act simply can not be done. Maybe some day.
What does your plate say about you?
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