I was originally going to do the long-awaited "Foods That Should Exist" post this week. Believe me, I planned to. I had all the entries worked out and everything. Then I realized two things: 1) it is way, way easier to be funny about things you hate than about things you love, and 2) there are still so many foods I hate that it's far more of a target-rich environment. Also I may have been drunk for basically the last three days straight, and every time I tried to write about Peanut Sauce it just devolved into a paragraph that said the words "I WANT ALL THE PEANUT SAUCE" over and over. We'll give it another shot next week. For now, enjoy more of what one astute Facebook commenter referred to as "shitting on Indonesia's culture" because I didn't like Tempeh (seriously, never change, Facebook commenters, you are the best).
Tuna Steak Well-Done — Fuck you, anyone who orders this at a restaurant. Fuck you SO hard. It's a fucking tuna steak; either eat it seared rare the way it's supposed to be served, or order something else. If you want a tuna fish sandwich (aka you are eight fucking years old and/or a cat wearing a people suit), order a goddamn tuna fish sandwich. True story: I was once suspended from work for a week for actually telling a customer that ordering a tuna steak this way was murdering a perfectly good piece of fish. AND IT WAS WORTH IT.
Chopped Liver — I've talked about Chopped Liver before, but in many ways it is the single most incredible food I have ever attempted to put into my face. At first, your tastebuds are just confused. "What did you just give me? Is...is that jam? Weird, oily jam? Did someone make Cockroach Tapenade?" which quickly descends into "OH MY GOD, WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT FLAVOR?! IT TASTES LIKE EMULSIFIED SADNESS." Moreover, Chopped Liver has a curiously pervasive quality; no matter what you do to try to get your tongue clean of its vile taste, it doesn't go away. It's basically the cat poop of culinary experiences. Chopped Liver is, along with Kugel and the next entry on this list, proof that Jews will fucking eat anything because we secretly all hate ourselves.
Gefilte Fish — ...do I even need to say anything here? I mean, have you seen a Gefilte Loaf before? You could use one to insulate your bathroom. Serious question, fellow Jews: is Gefilte Fish intended as revenge for the Spanish Inquisition? Because if it is, inflicting it on ourselves would seem to defeat the purpose.
Black Beans — Oooh, sandy spider eggs, what a lovely addition to my burrito! The weirdest thing about Black Beans to me is that everyone else loves them. I will never understand the broad-based appeal of Black Beans. Black Beans are less explicable than Herman Cain's presidential candidacy, and not remotely as entertaining.
Creamed Spinach — I've compared foods to vomit before, but when I did so, it made heavy use of hyperbole. Please understand that I am not exaggerating when I say that Creamed Spinach is the single closest thing to vomit I have ever seen on a plate that wasn't ACTUALLY vomit, in appearance, smell, AND taste. I don't understand it, either; I like Spinach, and I like cream-based foods, and yet, combining the two yields what appears to be the end result of Yog-Sothoth sneezing.
Chili — Because I don't think I've pissed off Texas enough yet with these posts. Dear everyone about to say "you just haven't had MY chili": shut the fuck up. You're talking about meaty tomato soup. Not even glorious, wonderful beef can save tomato soup. If Jesus and Jimmy Stewart combined their powers, they could not save tomato soup. In fact, while we're here:
Tomato Soup — Fuck you.
Chili (cont'd) — As I was saying, there's nothing that can save tomato soup, particularly not kidney beans mixed with pepper, tomato chunks, and armpit shavings. It's honestly difficult to say which of those could be considered the active ingredient with chili. Putting sour cream in chili feels like an insult to sour cream, unless it's low-fat sour cream, in which case it's an insult to decency.
"Creamy" Caesar Dressing That Isn't Fucking Creamy — There are two types of Caesar dressing: wonderful, delicious, magical caesar dressing, and anchovy scrotum juice that someone has labeled "creamy" because they hate all love and kindness in the world. When I sneeze, I don't refer to it as finest caviar, so stop referring to fish butt gravy as fucking Creamy Caesar.
Kim-Chi — What the fuck, Korea? Who the hell first decided "hey, let's bury rotten cabbage for like a decade and then eat it ourselves instead of force-feeding it to enemies of the state"? It would not surprise me even a little bit if Kim-Chi had originated as a form of corporal punishment, considering the Korean aristocracy's history of inventive cruelty towards itself.
It does occur to me that for someone who allegedly likes cabbage (and it's my fourth-favorite vegetable behind Brussels Sprouts, Broccoli, and Kale, in that order), a lot of cabbage-themed dishes are making appearances in these articles. Go figure.
Bubble Tea — I refuse to believe any of you are actually drinking Bubble Tea for enjoyment. Soggy tapioca pudding spheres floating in fruit-flavored milk-juice can't POSSIBLY be something people seek out ON PURPOSE. You have got to be trolling me; that's the only possible explanation. What the hell, Taiwan? Did you invent this as a long-overdue way of getting back at the rest of the world for not doing enough to help when Mao's Communists took over on the mainland? Is that what this is about? Because it seems like overkill to me.
Baby Corn — I am genuinely mystified by baby corn. It makes me wonder how it was even created in the first place. I feel like some sort of strange Nazi occult experiments were involved, like they were trying to summon Hellboy, but they got baby corn on their first attempt. Actually, if that really is where baby corn comes from, it'd explain a lot about it, including the fact that even unseasoned, it tastes like it's been marinating in stagnant water for a week.
Romanesca — If your first thought upon seeing this:
...is not "THE ALIENS HAVE ARRIVED, WE ARE ALL DOOMED," but rather "hot damn, that looks delicious," you may be under the influence of powerful psychotropic drugs (possibly the same ones whatever creator God responsible for Romanesca was under). Go sit somewhere quiet and safe until all the pretty colors go away. Also, the amount of drugs needed to make you think Romanesca tastes good is about double whatever the hell it took to kill Elvis, so you might want to seek medical attention.
(Yes, I know I did Cauliflower last week. I'm counting Romanesca as a different kind of Cauliflower, so there)