Crap on Toast
I am indebted to the fragrant Aunty Marianne, blogger and gastronome, who posed the question "What's the worst thing you've ever eaten?"
OK, so I've crapped through many eyes of many needles following losing arguments with various takeaway kebabs, burgers and meat pies banned under the Geneva Convention. However, these were generally fucked up for me by other people making a career out of widespread poisoning.
So: something I cooked myself...
A self-made curry, where I used rather more than the single spoon of curry paste required. Used to those easy-to-cook stir-in sauces where you brown some meat, pour on the contents and cook for a bit, I blindly piled on the paste. The whole jar, in fact.
It was like gargling battery acid. In fact, it was like battery acid with added broken glass and barbed wire, while Frank Bruno gamely pummels you in the chest for good measure. I went several mouthfuls trying to kid myself that it wasn't as bad as I thought, while Mrs Duck countered with "My God - are you trying to burn me to death?".
My bottom, some fifteen years later, has only just forgiven me.
This is mild, I expect, compared to your horror stories. Tell! Mainly because I can't be arsed to hold a Thursday vote-o today: TELL!
Also A week too late for Talk Like A Pirate Day: A bountiful treasure chest. Oh, Misty.