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Food For Thoughtless

| Friendly | March 28, 2016

(My roommate has a hard time understanding that other people will have different food preferences than she does, and because of this she and I have some interesting conversations when I cook. More often than not, they end with me reminding her that she doesn’t have to eat my food, and that I won’t change my diet to suit her tastes.)

Me: “I just made some soup, so if you want some go ahead, but I’ll warn you I use a lot of salt.”

Roommate: *tries a bite* “Oh, my god! Why would you use so much?!”

Me: “I have dangerously low blood pressure. I had to start adding salt to my food about six years ago. I can’t even taste it half the time anymore.”

Roommate: “You should use less salt. It’s bad for you to have too much, anyway.”

Me: “Salt is the easiest way to keep my blood pressure up. Like I said, I’m so used to it I can’t even taste it most of the time, and if I don’t use as much as I do, I’ll pass out.”

(Fast forward a few months, and I’m making my current favourite “lazy day” food, spicy chunky tomato soup.)

Roommate: *watching as I add the hot sauce* “Do you add hot sauce to everything?”

Me: “Not everything, but a lot of things. Why?”

Roommate: “Why? Not everything has to be spicy you know. Plus that’s a lot.”

Me: “I grew up on spicy foods. My mother was a big fan of them. She used to give me curry with milk added to it as a toddler. I’m pretty used to hot food, and since I grew up on it, I really like it.”

Roommate: “Okay, but you don’t need to add that much hot sauce.”

Me: *adding chili peppers to the soup* “I don’t need to. I want to. I like it spicy, plus since I started on spicy foods so young, my definition of spicy is a lot hotter than a lot of people’s. [My Boyfriend] has a scale for spicy foods; mild, medium, hot, unbearable, [My Name].”

Roommate: “Well, not everyone likes food that hot.”

Me: “Not everyone pays my grocery bill.”

Roommate: “This is why I can never share your food!”

(My favourite part about that is, I’ve actually tweaked several of my recipes to let her share, and set food aside labelled as hers, before making mine the way I like, only to find it a month later shoved to the back of the fridge growing fur… and yet she still insists that I should make my food the way she likes it.)

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