My wife makes me eat.
I don’t mean that she straps me to a chair and forces me to, erm what was I talking about? Oh yes, sorry, got side tracked there for a moment.
My wife makes me eat but doesn’t force me. Allow me to explain. I do not have the widest taste in foods ever. Wide doesn’t come close, its about the size of a supermodel if I had to describe it. I came to Canada just over 8 years ago and in that time I have ‘discovered’ many tasty treats that I had not encountered before, either by accident or through dedicated avoidance. I realise that I had many foods already tasted in my mind and my pre-conceived notions of what they tasted like meant that I didn’t try them. It took my wife to, well in truth it took several beers for me to try a Caeser salad for the first time, and as slightly inebriated as I was, I enjoyed it thoroughly.
Since then, foods have become my friends. Foods such as pizza (how did I live without it), mushrooms, cheese, and garlic have almost become everyday meals. Salads have become my lunches. I really don’t understand how I could have gone on so long without them.
Neither can my wife, who is a trained chef and works in a kitchen. Since my alcoholic salad, I have even discovered a staple of British foods that I had hardly ever touched, curry. Life is good when you can appreciate good food. Its even better when your wife is a great cook who makes the best food you have ever tasted. But enough about her salads, lets get back to being strapped to the chair………..