Touch-a, Touch-a, Touch-a, Touch Me (not Meat Loaf again)

Now Playing: Graveyard Shift, by Uncle Tupelo. “Well, I’m not saying there’s nothing wrong as the day comes along, If what I see is true I could learn to believe. Can’t look away, The powers that be might take it all away. Together we burn, together we burn away.”

No, this one isn’t about Rocky Horror or Meat Loaf or meatloaf. Though it is about food.

From my dad to my sons, the guys in my family have some quirks about food. Namely, we don’t really like our food to touch.

My dad was probably the most extreme. He’d put courses on his plate and eat them one at a time to avoid them touching. I saw him do it many a time, and my mom never complained about it or nagged him. It was just his way.

My brother and I don’t like it either, but we never went to that extreme. My brother’s other quirk with meals surfaced when we would have mashed potatoes and gravy. Frankie would build a perfect reservoir of potatoes in his plate, then fill to the rim – but not over – with gravy. Then he’d work from the outside and dip each fork full in the reservoir, being careful not to pierce the wall until absolutely necessary. Otherwise, the gravy would touch food. Including food already covered with gravy (hey, we’re Southerners, gravy was big in our house).

Interlude: Desperate Times, by Charlie Robison. “Well ol Jackie he got married, But his ends they wouldn’t meet. His wife worked at the Texas Commerce Bank just up the street. Jackie got an idea, To get him outta debt. They could live the good life, And drive a new Corvette, If he’d rob the bank he said, Cause these are desperate times.”

Older son Austin does the one food at a time eating thing, but he puts them all on his plate (assuming nothing will touch). He doesn’t really like casseroles because of it. Younger son Garrett doesn’t want his touch, but he usually eats more than one thing at a time. Needless to say, we use a lot of little bowls in my house for stuff like peas or beans or sauces.

That’s my fault. I’m the king of the little bowls. My added food fetish: I like to take small bites of everything on the plate. I need some turkey with my mashed potatoes and green bean casserole. Once the entree runs out, I’m stuck, particularly if the side is something like baked or mashed potatoes. But I’ve gotten better about the food touching thing. I still don’t like it too, but the only thing that really bothers me know is the liquid from cooking green beans, peas, broccoli and other veggies. And I don’t like ketchup to touch anything by my fries. And I don’t like gravy to run into my vegetables.

Um, maybe I’m not getting better after all.

This is likely the last Rants ‘n Raves for this week. We’re going to Northern Virginia for a few days for my oldest daughter’s graduation at George Mason U. Looking forward to seeing Lauren and Nicki as well as Lauren’s boyfriend Josh (to see what he thought of Iron Man 2). I’ll have the laptop with me, but I doubt I’ll get a chance to blog. If I don’t, have a happy weekend and I’ll see you Monday.


“One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.” _ Shakespeare. (Maybe that explains why I don’t like food to touch. Don’t want my food to be related!)


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