The other night for dinner, I made pork chops. Regular, center cut pork chops with no bone. You see, I’m not allowed to buy any meat that has a bone. Let’s re-phrase that….it’s not that I’m not allowed, but rather than listen to the inevitable man hissy fit, I go ahead and buy all boneless meat. Listen Lady, don’t be fooled into thinking I do this because I love Brett…I’m really just thinking of myself and the amount of grief it will save me. That’s right, I said it. BOOYA.
I figured out Brett’s aversion to bones a few years back, after I had cooked some chicken breasts. One of the pieces he ate had a small bone that had not been removed by the butcher. While chewing, he discovered the bone. In a fit of disgust, he spit out the mouthful of food while simultaneously spewing out “OHHHHHH. BONE!!!!!”
It was though he had put a live rat in his mouth, but did not realize such until the thing started moving around on him. Dumbfounded, I stared at him and shook my head. Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy and I have my own food quirks, but this is a prime example of how we keep the “assy” in “classy”. Thus began my boneless meat quest.
Typically, after plopping a piece of meat on Brett’s plate, he’ll inspect the entire piece, like the surgeon general dissecting it to his liking, before he begins any sort of food consumption. Over the years, the aversion seems to have grown from just bones to all types of meat inaccuracies. We now include small pieces of fat that are on the edge of meat, veins that occasionally run through a chicken breast, or my all time favorite “it just looks weird” meat.
Really Lady? I don’t have energy for this.
To his credit, Brett will eat pretty much anything I cook, especially if I try out a new recipe or have a minor catastrophe in the kitchen. I just hope that neither Cardin or Rory acquire this detailed aversion to meat.