December 2nd, 2011

Mother

The Rum Diary

Anyone who has known me for awhile has probably picked up that I don't care for most things alcoholic.  I have nothing *against* it, there's no moral quandary for me, there's nothing like that keeping me from it...I just don't LIKE it, the taste of it, the effects it has on a person, all things I'd rather avoid.

Even in foodstuffs, I dislike it, no matter how much people claim you can't taste it, because I have pretty sensitive taste buds, and can always taste the liquid itself, even if the alcohol has been burned away.  Although in my experience, some always gets left behind.  So, I avoid food that has some sort of beer or liquor used.  Beer battered food, sauces made with bourbon, etc.  There are VERY few exceptions, but 99.99% of instances are ones I'd rather avoid.

And this is where my mother and I butt heads.  She's one of the people that says you can't taste it because it's all burnt away.  To which I reply it has to leave SOME sort of something behind, otherwise it's pointless to use.  Either way, in my experience, it alters food so I don't like it, and I'd rather avoid.  No matter WHAT she thinks it does, it would be nice if she'd respect my opinion.

We frequently have tv dinners, just a couple times a month, and since they do food shopping usually when I'm asleep, I have a tendency to discover one or two waiting for me that have alcohol in there somewhere.  If it's something buried in the ingredients in the fine print, fine, I can see missing that.  But "Beer Battered Chicken!!" kinda is inexcusable.  Or coming home this week with TWO "beef patties with beer gravy".  Kinda hard to miss.

Returning them is no big deal, but each time I point out I won't eat it, my mother sighs exasperatedly and reminds me you can't taste it, and just has this tone of I should get over it already!  Well, I'm sorry, but in this specific example, the food takes 40 minutes to cook, then if I find out I *don't* like it, as the odds say I won't, well then it's another 40+ minutes while I wait for more food.  No thank you, I'd rather have food I will eat.

But all that annoying minutiae aside, it still just comes down to respecting my decisions here.  There are times that I think she picks them out to try and test me, think I won't notice, then she can jump up and have some sort of, "Ah HA!  Gotcha!  You ate beer!!" moment.  But that's just my paranoia.  She probably just keeps forgetting I tell her almost monthly I don't like alcohol and friends.

...And wow, this got way longer than I thought it would.  Sorry for the ramble.  I just wanted to vent. ;)

J
You may now call me silly.