Creepy Fish Eyes

Wow, I sure do write a lot about food. I’m not sure why. Maybe I should change the name of my blog to “Words For Eating” hahahahahahaahaa! Wait, that doesn’t really make sense. Anyway, I’m upset today because my fish won’t stop staring at me. Almost every night at dinner there is a steamed fish, with its milky dead eye, gazing deep deep deep into my soul. It is like the mona lisa, always watching me. As a proud and accomplished omnivore I am no stranger to eating meat, but as an American I am not used to eating meat with bones, feet, and eyes. It is pathetic. When I finally got the nerve to take a big bite of the fish it was like putting a large piece of fish flavored Cinnaburst gum in my mouth, but instead of flavor crystals it had tiny needles. I spent the next 10 minutes swishing the meat around from side to side trying to gracefully spit out all of the little pointy bones. In my entire life I had only ever eaten fish filets. Is it sad that I never really thought about whether or not fish had bones? I mean, I knew they had bones (I used to watch a lot of Heathcliff cartoons), I’m not THAT much of an idiot (maybe)! I just never thought they would be so small, plentiful, and camouflaged. This is going to hurt a hell of a lot more coming out than it did going in…

In the United States we are separated from the reality of what we eat. I remember walking through the butcher section of food stores and seeing almost no bones. I’ve lived my life on boneless chicken breast, ground meats, filets, and patties. Even when I would buy a whole chicken I wouldn’t have to stare it in the eyes before throwing it in the oven. Remember that scene in A Christmas Story at the Chinese restaurant (Deck the hars with bawrs of horry)? I had that exact same experience a few days ago, minus the racist singing. My duck, golden crisp and delicious, was frowning disapprovingly at me. Duck is one of my favorite dishes. I’ve been eating it for years. I’m a grown man, damnit! I know where duck meat comes from! Even when my nephew was 4 and we asked him where ducks come from he said something along the lines of “First ducks are yellow and live in the pond. Then they get bigger and go on my plate!” But still it was weird for me. Fortunately was hungry enough to get over it and I ate the duck anyway. It was superb!

Are we so pathetic as a nation that we can’t face (literally) the reality that we are eating flesh? Does our food really need to be disguised so well? It’s like how parents pretend a spoon of peas is an airplane or train so their baby will eat it. Stupid baby, it’s still peas! Why parents think a baby would want to eat an airplane or train is an issue I don’t have time for in this blog, but you get the idea. It is one thing to divert a baby’s attention from the reality of what they are eating, but we as adults are being treated exactly the same! At this point are we even capable of eating a dish with bones, or will we shovel the food into our fat mouths to fast and with complete disregard for potential “obstacles” that we either choke to death or crap out needles for a week? This makes me so angry I could kick a turkey, and then make a delicious roast out of it!