Two weeks on and the memory still haunts me.
I’ll be in the kitchen chopping celery for a risotto, and suddenly get a flashback to that nightmarish taste: sour and mushy, intensely fishy, and just creamy enough to make you gag.
I think I may have been scarred for life.
Don’t get me wrong; I never expected that I could boil the shit out of celery in water, lemon juice and oil; then coat it in vinegary mayonnaise, anchovies and olives and actually enjoy the final product – I mean I’m not a miracle worker – but this was in a recipe book. It had a French name for christ’s sake. It should have at least been edible!
Everybody thoroughly despised Celery à la Grecque, albeit for different reasons. Alister hated the anchovies, Sarah loathed the celery, for me it was just layers upon layers of sour, fishy misery. (Oh god, oh god I’m getting another flashback). I don’t think any of us managed to chew it more than twice before running to the sink.
The words “this is the worst thing I’ve ever eaten” get thrown around a lot on this blog (funny that), but this time I really mean it.
Now can anyone recommend a good therapist?