Cow blood. It’s a delicacy in my mom’s native country.
Once, when I was little, I asked my mom what she was cooking on the stove. She said, “chocolate.” It sure didn’t smell like chocolate, but she insisted that it was and tried to get me to eat some.
When she left the kitchen for awhile I <i>did</i> try some. It wasn’t nasty but the realization (later on) of what it was made it nasty. I never let on that I’d tried it.
BLECH!
Another yucky thing is patis. It smells like turpentine. I can’t imagine how it must taste.
I know a lot of people view Jelly Belly as a kind of god in candy form, but I think they have taken the whole thing way too far. Some of their flavours are pretty good, but a great deal of them are just terrible ideas. I’ll second Green Bean’s feelings on buttered popcorn, but I believe peanut butter or toast could give it a run for it’s money. Both utterly vile.
Dog wasn’t too bad(until I found out what it was.)
Goat was MUCH worse.
I could barely bring myself to LOOK at the dried fish(complete with head, eyes, scales, etc.)
But by far the worst thing I’ve ever tasted was “pizza” with mayonnaise and cut up hot dogs. What kind of freak would make that you ask? Not a freak. A restaurant. It was my thirteenth birthday and I was living in the Philippines. I hadn’t has pizza in months and when I saw it my eyes glowed with joy and my palms began to sweat. Alas, I was saving my money for something else, and just one slice of the pizza was twenty pesos. That’s not even a whole dollar in American money but in the Philippines that’s a lot of money even for a family like us who was living on the magnificent sum of $200 a month more or less. That pizza was so beautiful and I wanted it really bad. I guess my brother could tell because he bought me a slice as a birthday present. I couldn’t wait. As soon as I got it, I took a great big bite and nearly threw up my entire digestive system. You may not believe it, but it was FAR worse than dog. It tasted nothing at all like real pizza. It was made with tomato paste, mayonnaise, and on closer inspection, I realized that what looked like pepperoni was really the Filipinos’ poor excuse for a hot dog. However, being the magnificently wonderful big sister that I have always been, I choked down the whole slice so I wouldn’t hurt his feelings. Plus, I just couldn’t bear to waste all that money. Fully eighty cents,at least.
It took me years to trust another slice of pizza again.
Imagine a series of surgeries that leave the upper front portion of the inside of your mouth slowly oozing from surgical wounds without being able to eat or drink anything for a few days* leaves you with a memorable horrid taste.
Sustenance is provided intra-venously. No food or drink for, IIRC four days.
Two weeks until you can visit Mr toohbrush, then the swelling combined with all the freshly-healing wounds makes that a tenative and painful thing.
I can see what the person with the abcessed tonsil and the other with the wisdom tooth funk are talking about.
Well, one time there was this girl I went down on…
…but not for long. Ptooey! :eek:
When I was around 4, my mother gave me cod liver oil for something, for what I don’t remember (probably 'cause I couldn’t shit or something). Man, that cod liver oil is nasty.
When I was in the 7th grade, I had to take Amoxicillin for some ailment. I had forgotten to take it on my way to class. You know, while washing it down with water from the fountain? Like a normal person would? So like an idiot, I decided, while in class, that I’d try to work up a mouth full of spit and swallow the pill. Wrong. It got stuck in my throat, where the capsule proceeded to melt. Disgusting. Tasted like burnt plastic and baking soda.
Also on my worst tastes list: toasted marshmallows (I gag), and Southern Comfort (tastes like alcoholic pancake syrup).
It was around Christmas time. With girlfriend at her parents’ place. Mother had cooked a ‘traditional’ xmas pudding, complete with hidden sixpences (old British tradition). The metallic composition of the sixpences had seeped into the pudding, but we didn’t know that. Not until about 3 seconds after ‘enjoying’ the first mouthful.
Words cannot do justice to the awfulness.
This was a long time ago. She’s now an ex-girlfriend, but this wasn’t the reason.
Yes,CARINE, I ate DOG!
It wasn’t my fault. I was lulled into a false sense of security. My family went to the Philippines as missionaries. While we were there, we were invited to a birthday party. We thought “Sure,okay,we’ll go. This lady is a schoolteacher. Surely she understands the ill effects of eating pets.” WE WERE WRONG!! There was this huge table full of food, so, of course we filled up our plates and chowed down. Big mistake. Just after we finished polishing off some very indifferent tasting ribs, my mom thought to ask our gracious hostess what kind of ribs they were. The answer----you guessed it, DOG. Needless to say, none of us ate much more that day.
When we lived in Cincinnati there was this sweet woman from Bulgaria that had a garden behind the parking lot behind my office. She gave us all kind of wonderful veggies, but every year she would make a tomatoe relish that one tiny taste would make me start to gag. I always told her how wonderful it was and each year I would take that small taste hoping it would not taste so bad. It always did.
Having had my first choice taken, I was forced to dig far into my repressed memories and low and behold! I remembered stuff far worst than smelly tofu.
I was once invited at an acquaintance’s birthday party. When I showed up someone cheerfully asked whether I would like some wine. The moment I said yes, I knew I might regret it.
I was brought a mug of brownish liquid. Before I could spot a sink to throw the thing away, the man said: “I made it myself, hava sip tell me watcha think.”
I had no choice.
It touched my lips.
I faked swallowing.
“You made this yourself?” I asked. I figured the recipe went something like this:
Take a man. Who suffers from athlete’s foot. Have him run a marathon. I does not matter if he is fit. As a matter of fact, the longer it takes, the better. The next day, have him run again, and a third time the day after, making sure he is always WEARING THE SAME SOCKS. He must not wash them. Collect the socks. Infuse for a week. Remove the socks. Add grape-flavoured Kool Aid. Ferment. Serve lukewarm. In a mug. An ugly mug.
It was even worst than the stuff vets use on suture points to keep the dog from licking them. And that was meant to taste bad.
Oh Kathleen… yikes yikes yikes!!!
Do they have dogs as pets in the Philippines or is it just food material? It would be weird if they had dogs as pets…then EAT THEM!
