Condiment Do's and Don't's

I feel like I've been a bit content light of late.  Not as funny as I can be.  Time has been an issues.  All which in my opinion have compromised my blogging.  Perhaps I am too hard on myself, but I do take my "job" to entertain you all seriously!  I don't have much in the way of wisdom to provide seeing as the past two weeks have been a battle for me to remain dedicated to the diet.  I keep trying but have fallen back into some old habits.  If I figure out the secret to stopping those, believe me I'll let you all know.  So I figure at most I can provide a light Friday entry about something I feel passionately about, and not in a good way,....condiments.

You have probably heard me reference my distaste, perhaps that is too light a word...my abhorrence, of condiments.  I find ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, salad dressing, vinegar, relish/pickles, and gravy to be among the most vile and offensive substances ever created.  Yes folks, I am a self admitted freak show.  I know some people may have one of these items on their own dislike list, but the whole list....probably not.  I have to say I have NO clue where this little tick came from.  My family members are all normal, and I am the only one who has taken up issues with these common garnishes.  There is no one traumatic incident I can point to that kicked off this aversion.  I am not sure what that really says about me.

However, this goes back as long as I can remember.  I was the kid who had to special order at the MacDonald's Drive thought....Quarter Pounder with Cheese but no ketchup, mustard, or pickles (Luckily I don't eat fast food anymore so this isn't really an issues at present).  Twenty minutes later while waiting in the parking lot (sort of defeats both the purpose of "fast food" and drive-through) my father would be fuming that we were still waiting for my special order.  At least half the time my special order was just too complicated for the workers within and my meal would come out with some offending substance.  I knew better than to ask for a re-do and was smart enough to carry a stash of extra napkins with me for this reason alone.  Away we'd go, late to whatever event because of me, and I'd be in the backseat performing the equivalent of a surgical procedure to remove any trace of condiments from my bun and burger.  It was not a pretty sight.  I was happier eating napkin bits then any red, yellow, or green substance.

Salad dressing is particularly difficult for me.  One of my best friends who was a virtual live in at my house growing up, loved Italian dressing.  I want to vomit even thinking about this as I write.  I would try to be normal and deal with the awful smell emanating from the leafy greens.  For me, the smell of Italian dressing might as well be the same as a pile of steaming dog shit.  It really is that bad.  So I'd start to inch further and further away from the offending plate as well as breathing through my mouth.  I'd try not to draw attention to it because I didn't want to make anyone feel badly that they were eating something so normal, but it's hard to miss a kid inching away from the table breathing like they had asthma or something.  It's a wonder I had any friends or parents that didn't send me away under reason of pallet defect.

Mayo is about the most vile substance.  The texture alone sends shivers up my spine.  I worked in a bagel shop in high school and when I had to fill the mayo dispensers I seriously contemplated quitting.  Many times I was able to trade jobs with my other coworkers.  I'd rather clean the bathroom than deal with the condiment refills, especially the mayo.  But if duty called I would DREAD pulling down the monstrous vat of chunky white goo.  Inevitably when I had to refill the containers the vat was always almost empty.  So I'd have to reach in with a spatula and scrape the bottom to get the last bits of mayo to transfer to the individual containers.  It was impossible not to get the junk on my hand and arm no matter how careful I was.  I literally would run to the sink and wash it off and then go right back to it.  Luckily I was able to conceal this odd behavior from the owners as I'm sure this was not the most effective work style.

I think the crux of my aversion lies in vinegar (although not always as some of these items are vinegar free).  I would rather eat dry bread, dry meat, dry lettuce than let any offending agent cross my lips.  I do have several exceptions to the rule (which my husband loves to point out as totally illogical...which I fully concede).  I make no excuse that I am in any way shape or form normal about this.  First of all, I will eat tuna (not so much anymore because I'm terrified of mercury poisoning..but that is a story for another day) or chicken salad made with mayo.  Beware, I must carefully inspect the mixture to ensure it's not too heavy on the mayo or I will have to order a dry turkey sandwich instead.  (Side note, all this is order out as I never make any of these things at home).  The same rule applies to potato salad.  If desperate enough I will eat potato salad that has too much mayo so long as I scrape each potato piece on the side of my plate to remove excess mayo.  After the end of this process my plate looks more like that from a 5 years old than a mature 30-something!

I will eat Mexican and many Asian condiments.  Guacamole, sour cream, and salsa (well, there is a rule within the rule as I only really like the liquid not the chunks of salsa...I know...FREAK)...bring it on.  Most soy based Asian dipping sauces are a go in my book.  I know many have rice wine vinegar in them, but I chose to not think about that or I can make myself ill.  If I make any of these at home I will have to substitute something for the vinegar.  It's one thing to accidentally eat something you don't like but it's another think to proactively add something you are convinced you hate!  As well, I like many cheese sauces that are sometimes used on sandwiches.

I don't always like being this way, but at 30 something I think I'm over trying to change and force myself to eat things that really do not add nutritional value to food.  I periodically try to taste or smell some of the items on the "no no" list but find it's just not worth it.  From a diet perspective I know my aversion (Mexican ones aside of course...damn) to condiments is actually saving me on the calorie front.  Perhaps anyone else out there looking to shave some calories should try my anti-condiment campaign!

The ultimate irony here is that my husband is not only a condiment embracer, but he probably considers condiments (especially ketchup, mayo and pickles) a fifth food group.  I am barely able to be in the same room with him as he constructs a sandwich or burger that is more condiment than meat and bread!  To make matters worse, ketchup goes on anything and everything.  I'm waiting for the day he decides the red stuff would compliment something like pancakes.  How could I have been so blind in my marital choice?  I wasn't hopeful of finding another condiment hater who would happily join in the cause to raise condiment free children, but a condiment over-indulger....really??  I guess this is one more thing to put in the pile of our stark differences.

I will leave you with one last condiment related story for your amusement.  I simply cannot write about my issues with these substances without telling this story (thankfully time has healed all wounds).  My senior year of college I lived with a large pack of my friends.  It was a fun time filled with pranks of all sorts...you know, the good old days.  We all had dining rooms in our dorms and that is where you had your meals at set  hours (I know, not the norm by any means).  I had been late, mostly likely I was at the barn doing something with horses, and missed dinner.  Well, my friends saw this as a golden opportunity to pull a prank on me.  My room was open, as everyone else's was.  In my absence, they had taken hundreds of packets of ketchup, mustard, and mayo from the dining room.  You can only imagine where this story is going.  I came home to a room filled with condiment packs.  Thank God my friends had the foresight to know not to open them otherwise it may have required me to check into the mental health facility for a nervous breakdown.  Even closed the packets gave me the creeps.  All I could hear were the giggles in the hall as I gasped at each new discovery.  In my drawers, my desk area, my closet, my bookshelf, taped to the walls.  Throughout the course of the evening I thought I had discovered the bulk of them which I piled in a stack outside my room door.  Finally it was bedtime.  I pulled back my comforter and much to my horror my so called friends had sewed packets to the edge of my fitted sheet.  AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.  My bed, my sanctuary was now dotted with contaminants of the worse kind.  If I weren't broke I would have thrown the sheets away.  That was not an option.  I managed to pull it together, detach the packets, wash the sheets, and reclaim my room again.  Sigh....I can look back now and laugh hard, but I do remember feeling a sense of panic and "ick" at the time.  You guys know who you are....you got me and you got me good!!!

At any rate, that is my story for the day.  I hope after you have all read this that I still have some friends who will not consider me too strange and neurotic to run with.  Aren't we all abnormal in our own ways??  Until later, happy, healthy, condiment free eating days!