Do you ever notice how picky eaters always think that they really aren't all that picky, but that the pickier they are, the more they protest being labeled as a picky eater? Yeah, The Hubs is one of those. My life would be a lot easier if he didn't mind eating whatever kooky thing I come up with. Kooky as in spinach, or mushrooms, or sour cream, or (gasp!) any kind of syrup other than Mrs. Butterworths. He eats pizza sauce and marinara sauce and ketchup and salsa and chili containing cans and cans of stewed and diced tomatoes, but still he insists that he does not like tomatoes. But I guess that's what marriage is all about, right? Compromises and accommodations of your loved one's quirks. Or as I prefer...stealth-like strategery!
Little does he know (until he actually reads this), that tonight The Hubs ate a big plate full of fresh homemade pasta with an olive oil, garlic, and anchovy sauce. And he loved it! (But he, of course, HATES anchovies). Insert evil laughter here.
So of course it's a mental block, rather than an actual tastebud issue. Even so, am I doomed to a life of hiding ingredients in the back of the cupboard until he's not looking?
Very sneakily yours,
Sarah
This is your Hubs.... Not cool! I new it tasted fishy, but I thought it was the shrimp you put in it! I can be sneaky too :)
ReplyDeleteYou loved it...you ate all the leftovers! ;)
ReplyDelete