WRITING CULTURE 2012: Film, Food & Beyond

I remember being served dinner every night by my mother. She would grab the bowl of delicious, hot rice and put a couple spoonfuls of it on my plate, and then she’d get the bowl of salad covered in vinegar and olive oil and put it right next to my rice and than place some nice, tender meat of whatever, chicken, beef or pork and I would enjoy every bit of it. But then staring me down menacingly from across the dinner table, are the wet little lumps drowned in some bubbling, brown liquid. She would grab them and dump a disgusting load of it right on top of everything and I could almost feel my appetite fly right out of me and vanish into thin air. Beans. These dreaded beans are ruining my dinner and ruining my life.

I can’t stand this miniature orbs of pure disgust and evil. If I would guess what beans are made out of, I would say a key ingredient for them are pretty much everything that’s gross and abominable on this planet. And it’s shame they even exist. I love Mexican food. Mexican cuisine is one of my favorite kinds of food in the world. And it’s really a shame that such a great variety of Mexican food is ruined by these repulsive little things. I eat Chipotle like at least once a week and I never ask for beans in my burritos. If I see one bean, even a little drop of bean sauce, on my burrito I will make them take it back and make me a fresh one.

I really can go on forever on my hatred on beans. My father loves them and has always tried to force feed them to me. “They’re filled with iron and protein  Ivan” he says. Yeah, I don’t care. If you consider these abominations food and nourishment, then I guess I’m the most malnourished person in the world.

Definitely on the top of my list of worst things ever. Hell is a close second.