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patti

patti

Someone mentioned headcheese. I bet I’d love it if I ever actually tasted it, but I can’t get past my childhood memory of seeing it regularly in a grocery store display case and seeing what I was quite sure were toenail clippings in it. 
 

My husband’s family is a family of picky eaters. Cooking for them is not enjoyable because of how narrow their likes are. I recall showing up to a holiday dinner (many years ago) with cute little mini cheesecakes, some topped with blueberries and some with strawberries. Not a single one was eaten. Cheese? In cake?!  Another time, my B-I-L’s third wife was over for the first time. She hollered out to her husband, in another room,  “You’re not going to like anything she’s making!” Oy vey. 

patti

patti

Someone mentioned headcheese. I bet I’d love it if I ever actually tasted it, but I can’t get past my childhood memory of seeing it regularly in a grocery store display case and seeing what I was quite sure were toenail clippings in it. 
 

My husband’s family is a family of picky eaters. Cooking for them is not enjoyable because of how narrow their likes are. I recall showing up to a holiday dinner (many years ago) with cute little mini cheesecakes, some topped with blueberries and some with strawberries. Not a single one was eaten. Cheese? In cake?!  Another time, my B-I-L’s third wife was over for the first time. She hollered out to her husband, in another room,  “You’re not going to like anything she’s making!” Oh vey. 

patti

patti

Someone mentioned headcheese. I bet I’d love it if I ever actually tasted it, but I can’t get past my childhood memory of seeing it regularly in a grocery store display case and seeing what I was quite sure were toenail clippings in it. 
 

My husband’s family is a family of picky eaters. Cooking for them is not enjoyable because of how narrow their likes are. I recall showing up with at a holiday dinner (many years ago) with cute little mini cheesecakes, some topped with blueberries and some with strawberries. Not a single one was eaten. Cheese? In cake?!  Another time, my B-I-L’s third wife was over for the first time. She hollered out to her husband, in another room,  “You’re not going to like anything she’s making!” Oh vey. 

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