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The beetroot slid down. It left a slimy trail as it oozed
towards the floor and then stuck; a monument to childhood arseholery, hovering,
purple and pickled, on the while wall.
Best place for it, really.
Beetroot. What even IS that shit? And who in their right mind feeds it to a three year old?
My mum, that’s who. A brave woman.
This was back before the fear of not being nice had grabbed me. Back then I had a modest but swiftly developing talent for creative food disposal.
We had to eat everything on our plates. So I threw that slice of shitty beetroot as far from the plate as my chubby arm would send it.
Problem solved.
Nothing was ever said about The Beetroot Incident, but I feel it’d be unreasonable to think my mum could have missed a pinky-purple circle of beetroot at eye-level on her kitchen wall.
When you’re small, rebellions tend to be on a pretty minor scale. No setting fire to the house, or running away for me. Food was the mutiny of choice.
Now and then I wonder about that stain. Is it still there, on that Canberra council house wall, capturing a beetroot slice’s precious last moments for posterity?
I hope so because The Beetroot Incident was the first memory of the hatred of pickled beetroot I harbour to this day.
It was also the last memory I have of being so consciously, joyously un-nice.
Best place for it, really.
Beetroot. What even IS that shit? And who in their right mind feeds it to a three year old?
My mum, that’s who. A brave woman.
This was back before the fear of not being nice had grabbed me. Back then I had a modest but swiftly developing talent for creative food disposal.
We had to eat everything on our plates. So I threw that slice of shitty beetroot as far from the plate as my chubby arm would send it.
Problem solved.
Nothing was ever said about The Beetroot Incident, but I feel it’d be unreasonable to think my mum could have missed a pinky-purple circle of beetroot at eye-level on her kitchen wall.
When you’re small, rebellions tend to be on a pretty minor scale. No setting fire to the house, or running away for me. Food was the mutiny of choice.
Now and then I wonder about that stain. Is it still there, on that Canberra council house wall, capturing a beetroot slice’s precious last moments for posterity?
I hope so because The Beetroot Incident was the first memory of the hatred of pickled beetroot I harbour to this day.
It was also the last memory I have of being so consciously, joyously un-nice.
Are there any foods you're tempted
to throw at the wall?
to throw at the wall?
Me too. Especially hate it when you have to take it off something like a gorgeous, juicy old-fashioned hamburger only to find it has stained the FUCK out of the bread and even the lettuce. Bleurrrgggghhh
ReplyDeleteAlso tinned asparagus - it smells rancid no matter what SOME people may say (I'm looking at you there Slapdash)
Oh yes I love fresh asparagus but tinned is an abomination!!!!
DeleteActually, it was home-grown and home-pickled beetroot *lol* - amateur - so I guess that is another reason for throwing it! xxxx
ReplyDeleteI hate all of those pickled vegetables LOL Love it roasted though!! xxx
DeleteI understand many people hate beetroot, but I was and am still not one of them. Despite my "beetroot incident". My mother thought I was dying when I peed pink from having sneakily eaten the remains of an 800gm can that had just been opened when I was about 3 also! Seems that is when you decide your preference for beetroot in this life! Lol
ReplyDeletehahahahaaaaaa! I must tell the "show plaque on your teeth as red" tablet chewing incident once day...
DeleteI quite like tinned beetroot, sorry :D Not on burgers though, that shit's just weird. I loathe celery with a passion, hate hate hate it. The smell, the (almost non existent yet still disgusting) taste, the crunch. Also not a fan of cilantro. Bit of a picky eater altogether in fact, unless it's got sugar in it, in which case, bring it on :(
ReplyDeleteI'm not a celery fan either. Ewwwww...
Deletehahahahahahhhaaa! I know what you mean.
ReplyDeleteI never liked baked beans until recently, but beetroot and its friend Vegemite can go and get stuffed.
ReplyDeleteOh baked beans are foul. I like a tiny smear of vegemite only. xxxx
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