“Part of the secret of success in life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside.” (Author unknown)
Hello, my lovely friends!
Its Friday Funday and that means another fact vlog. Today’s blog into it because it’s about food. We all have our different things about food and that’s what Paula facts are about.
1. Onions and I? We have a complicated history. Let's just say my introduction involved teething, a very well-meaning grandma, and a bulb of pure, pungent misery. Apparently, my sister fared no better with her steak-teething trauma. We're a family of uniquely specific food aversions, courtesy of our early dental development. You could say onions and steak are the battle scars of our baby gums!
2. So, onions and I don't really get along. But, weirdly, I love French onion dip, those sour cream and onion chips, and a good onion ring. Thing is, if I bite into that ring and the onion tries to make a break for it, it's gotta go. Every. Single. Time. I know, it's a bit much, right?
3. My Burger King ritual has been etched in stone since childhood: Whopper with cheese, onion-free, and a side of glorious onion rings. Yeah, I know, judge me. One day, waiting for my usual masterpiece, I heard someone call out the exact same order. Another dude stepped up, claimed it, and vanished. My friends, of course, declared I'd just lost my soulmate. Apparently, the perfect match is someone who shares my bizarre, onion-centric paradox. They're probably out there, somewhere, living my best, slightly confusing, fast-food life.
4. Restaurant visits as a kid? Pure, unadulterated anxiety. The kind that knotted your stomach and turned food into a terrifying obstacle course. I'd navigate the menu, order something safe, and then spend the meal in a state of low-grade panic. The real magic happened at home. Suddenly, the same food I'd barely touched became the most delicious thing in the world. It wasn't the food, it was the atmosphere. My 'fancy' excuse was just a kid's way of saying 'I'm overwhelmed.
5. My birthday ritual was a delicious double-feature. First, Mom would work her magic, crafting a steak and mac-n-cheese masterpiece at home. Then, the grand finale: a restaurant adventure. It was a wild swing from the comfort of home to the over-the-top theatrics of Casa Bonita or the seafood feast at Red Lobster. Basically, my birthday was a delicious study in contrasts.
6. My mom taught me to cook, not through formal lessons, but by letting me be a constant presence in her kitchen. Watching her make tortillas was like witnessing magic, and I was determined to crack the code. That early curiosity turned into a teenage passion. Being the first one home meant I had the opportunity to experiment, which often involved calling my mom at work for real-time culinary guidance. It was an iterative process, a blend of observation, experimentation, and a lifeline to my expert.
Thank you so much for stopping by! Hope your morning/afternoon/evening is extra cozy and delightful. Until our paths cross again!
