A Recipe For Disappointment

I like pie.

I like food in general. I like to cook, I like to eat. (I HATE to clean, so eventually there is a balancing of forces in the universe. I haven’t exploded yet.) Among the 25 (estimated) bookshelves in my apartment, there are (at least) two dedicated to cookbooks (I have almost twenty books for my bread machine alone). In general, I will try anything once (kimchee, for example…only once, though) and have added to my addiction by subscribing to a few / several / many / most (?) websites about food. I get new teasers daily in my inbox. Fun, right?

Well, not so much. I know I am getting older, and understand with aging tastes change and become less pronounced over time, but I never expected it to be this bad this quickly. To my horror, I am finding that it doesn’t matter whether it is Italian or Oriental, Thai, Mexican, or Jamaican, they pretty much taste the same. Or if it is main dishes, deserts, confectionery delights or decadent cookies loaded with fat and sugar. The most mundane to the most exotic, containing animal, vegetable, or mineral ingredients, it simply doesn’t matter. I check out every new recipe on my computer,

When I lick the screen for a sample, they all taste like dust…


Post 24 of n


One thought on “A Recipe For Disappointment

  1. This was funny. I am a food fanatic, and whenever people post recipes online, it kills me because while they assure me, “This is delicious!!!” (always with a minimum of three exclamation points) I need to taste it myself to see if it’s something of my liking. I’m not picky, per se, but I do know what I like, and I don’t want to waste my time on something that makes my tongue angry. When my tongue is angry, nothing is as pleasant as it should be.


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