When I was a kid, I had several youthful and energetic uncles who felt that playing tricks on a defenseless little kid was the height of ecstasy. I know a lot of kids who are not allowed to eat sugar or drink sodas nowadays, but back then, we were allowed, but it was such a luxurious experience that if a bottle of that delicacy were available, I would always have to split it with my sister and no one ever got “the bottle” because it wouldn’t be fair for one to have so much enjoyment while the other had not quite as much joy. Therefore, we had to drink it out of short little kid cups. It seemed unjustifiable that everyone suffered so that no ONE could have the ultimate pleasure, but we were getting soda, so complaining would be counter-productive and might eliminate the privilege altogether. 

I said all that to say this: One day out of the blue, energetic gang of uncles approached 5- to 6-year-old me with a proposition. I was too unsophisticated to understand the “too good to be true” theory, and I fell for it. The proposal was that if I would take this regular kitchen teaspoon full of clear liquid and drink it down, I could have a whole RC Cola IN THE BOTTLE all to myself. Heck yeah!! It took the entire bottle of RC Cola to wash the flavor of castor oil out of my mouth. I never found out if they were given the task of getting me to take castor oil or if it was just a prank. I also have no idea why one might need castor oil anyway?

I did not have an adventurous palate as a Hoosier teen. The only kinds of cheese I knew about were American cheese and the powdered cheese that came with Chef Boy-Ar-Dee pizza mix. I like grilled cheese and pizza, so when offered “Jack Cheese,” by a trusted relative, I thought, “sure” (terminally gullible.) Unfortunately, they failed to release the full name of the cheese; “Pepper Jack” Cheese. That spicey bite put me off cheese adventures for a long time. Until one day when I discovered Swiss cheese and that became my lifelong favorite. I think I was persuaded because it was called SWISS cheese and not United States Cheese, because I had always had a fascination for the foreign and exotic, due to coming from the Cornbelt where all is bland and beige. French Fries were as exotic as we got, and we had to go out for those. We didn’t have French Fries at home, just fried potatoes. I think the difference is the depth of the oil. No one at home was willing to allow the potatoes in any but the kiddie pool of oil baths. 

My fascination with the colorful world of anything outside of my hometown is what led me away to Texas and Louisiana and led me to know how to cook, eat and make food that tastes like something. My sister stayed in Indiana. Once when she came to visit me in Texas, I took her to TGIFridays and she had the ribs. I have had the ribs, and they (to me) had a sweet BBQ flavored sauce. My sister with the Indiana palate was panting and drinking gallons of iced tea to stop the “burn.” That’s when I realized that I had changed. It came on slowly and I had not realized how accustomed I had become to spice and food heat. I visited my friend in Minnesota once and at the Mexican restaurant, I was picking off the canned jalapenos that were on top of the nachos and eating them – I thought they were olives. They weren’t hot at all. Everyone at the table was in awe of my threshold of pain. They weren’t hot, just vinegary.  I can eat fresh raw sliced jalapenos, but I don’t need to prove anything. To be honest, they really taste better mixed with things like cheese. You would be surprised how delicious a scrambled egg, avocado, bacon and Swiss cheese, salsa and jalapeno taco tastes.  No full bottle of RC Cola required to wash it down.

Until Next Time,

Your Friend, Tracy