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Paperwork: I often ask, ‘What’s the soup of the day?’ Hoping it won’t be the dreaded split pea · Illinois Valley - Shaw Local

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  Speaker 1: Paperwork. I often ask what's the soup of the day,
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  hoping it won't be the dreaded split peet written by
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  Lonnie Kane. This article is being read by an automated
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  voice brought to you by Everlet I have a rule.
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  If I can't look at it, then I can't eat it.
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  I guess there's a psychology to eating right. It's not
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  just about about flavor. The smell and texture also can
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  influence my decision to chomp and chew. But the first
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  hurdle for me usually is looking at what's on my
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  plate or in the bowl. So don't serve me split
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  pea soup. I'm sorry, it looks like something someone already ate.
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  I know this. This is silly because I like peas
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  until you smash them. Then I'm leaving the room. I
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  was reminded of my golden rule recently when a friend
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  shared a scary photo of a plate full of lutfisk,
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  which I like to pronounce as loot afesk, which tickles
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  my ancestry genes. I'm sixty one percent where we but
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  if I have any Viking blood in me, it doesn't
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  translate well into eating. The little I know about lutfisk
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  I found online. Dried white fish, usually cod or ling,
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  is soaked in a caustic solution of water and lye
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  for several days. This process breaks down the fish's proteins
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  by half and gives the flesh its distinctive gelatinous texture.
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  The chemical reaction leaves behind a powerful ammonia like scent
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  that becomes heavily concentrated when the fish is heated on
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  the stovetop or in an oven. Then I read the
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  fish is often served with boiled potatoes, melted butter, and
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  small pieces of fried bacon and mashed green peas. No,
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  no thanks. One funny note A common joke you might
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  hear about lutfisk, someone saying I have tried lutefisk twice,
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  once going down and another time coming back up. You
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  get the picture right. I have no memory of ever
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  eating lutfisk. It shall remain that way. Probably I have experimented.
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  As a result, I do enjoy herring. When a jar
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  has just been opened, I slide the slippery devils onto
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  crackers and savor. But after the jar has been in
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  the fridge a few days, I get a little squeamish
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  pulling a slice from the cloudy liquid. Silly right. I
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  also have slurp swallowed sardines from an oily tin, and
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  now and then I suck oysters from a shell. I
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  am uneasy doing this, but I do it. I do
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  not find them disgusting to look at. My rule can
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  be a fooler. More than once I've seen liver and
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  onions frying in the pan, the aroma enticing. I know better,
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  but still I take a bite, thinking, this time it
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  will taste as good as it looks. I am always wrong,
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  so eating never stops being a learning experience. Maybe I
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  have an issue with smashed food. Not potatoes, love those
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  anyway you cook them, but I approach dips with caution. Hummus,
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  for example, I have enjoyed the mashup, but I have
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  to get over how it looks sometimes. And guacamole. I
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  love freshly made guack, but when pulling it from the
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  fridge a day or so later, I find it doesn't
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  look quite right. I still shiver over memory is of
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  feeding my boy's baby food. Those nutrients smashed into small
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  jars must be healthy, but it was hard to watch
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  little spoonfuls going into those tiny mouths and then drooling
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  back out down the chin. It looked the same coming
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  out as it did going in. Now that I'm thinking
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  about it, I could never be an astronaut for many reasons,
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  of course, but I would struggle with squeezing a smashed
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  up meal from a tube. And I won't be on
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  any of those survival shows, either searching for grubs under
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  rotting logs or big crunchy insects. Survivor contestants who have
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  eaten beetles and grubs say it's like biting into a bratwurst.
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  There's a squirt of juices and a tough, leather like exterior.
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  By now you must be thinking about crazy things you
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  have eaten, and you probably want to ask me about
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  head cheese or Rocky Mountain oysters. I've seen the oysters
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  or deep fried bowl testicles on menus in the West.
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  Thought about it, but nope, and head cheese. I had
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  the opportunity we visited Scotland. I had been told to try.
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  It's like a write of passage. I did not. The
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  description is clearly why. It's a meat jelly made from
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  the cooked, jellied trimmings of an animal's head. They slice
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  it and serve it on sandwiches or crackers. I not
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  only did not eat any, but I also made it
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  a point not to see any, so others at the
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  table might say, boy, that smells good or mmm, that
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  tastes good. I'll be the one saying everything looks great,
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  let's eat. Lonnie Kane, retired managing editor of The Times
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  in Ottawa, also was a reporter for the Herald News
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  and Joliet in the nineteen seventies. His paperwork email is
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  Lonniejacaine at gmail dot com or mail the News Tribune
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  four twenty six Second Street, LaSalle, Aisle six one three
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  zero one