If you’re going to live in Ireland for almost four months, you’re going to eat a taco. Obviously. Like all Irish people do. All the time. So it should come as no surprise that I tried my first taco today.
I got a crunchy shell filled with chicken, salsa, and cheese. I didn’t get sour cream because that stuff is nasty and no blog or peer pressure can get me to try that. I also didn’t get guacamole, but that was mainly because the lady just walked past it and I didn’t really care enough to flag her down. Now, I know what you’re thinking: Beth, you’ve had all these foods that were in your taco before! IT’S DIFFERENT!
It came with 3 tacos, and I ate them all. :O
- I have this weird thing about mixing foods. Basically, I don’t do it. So just because I may like both chicken and salsa, doesn’t mean I want to eat them together.
- I don’t like cold cheese. In fact, if I knew the cheese wasn’t going to be melted I probably wouldn’t have been brave enough to try it (you all just realized how serious my condition is).
- The salsa was super chunky and consisted of big pieces of tomatoes and onions. I don’t really do that…
The verdict? I liked it! I ate the whole thing! I added some hot sauce for MORE flavor! WOW!
I’m going to be honest, I’m still not a fan of cold cheese, but I suffered through it to get to the yummy chicken and salsa (together). I also learned something very weird about myself: I only have a problem with big chunks of tomatoes and onions when I can see them. Most of the time I couldn’t because the taco shell and the cheese were covering them. But every once in awhile there’d be a piece of tomato on the edge of the shell and I would flick it off as though I could never eat that which is absurd because I had obviously already eaten a lot of that. I’m weird. H8 ON ME H8AS.
I’m happy to report that I have officially added a new food to my diet that I can now rely on when at a Mexican restaurant with friends and in that awkward position of trying to figure out if the chef will make me chicken fingers and French fries. Yayy!!
Apparently my last two posts weren’t “exciting” enough, so I was swindled into trying bubble tea yesterday. All I can say is “No. Just no.”
Seriously, why does that stuff exist? Who decided that milky juice with chewy balls inside of it was going to be a good drink? Because it’s not. That person was very wrong.
I tried a “taro” flavored bubble tea. I don’t even know what taro is. Is that a fruit? Or maybe one of those crazy healthy plants whose name I refuse to learn out of principle? To be fair, the drink itself wasn’t awful. It was pretty sweet and didn’t have a very strong flavor. So taro really isn’t the enemy here. But those bubbles, man. Why?
Don’t let these pictures fool you. They were taken before I tried the bubble tea.
Deceiving amounts of happiness
I took one sip and got like 4 “bubbles”. They were so chewy and felt so gross in my mouth while I was still trying to swallow the taro drink. I just really don’t understand the concept. Why is that appealing? It was like drinking an already pretty weird juice box and then finding vitamin chews mixed inside. Yum.
I rewarded myself for my bravery with an Oreo milkshake from KFC. I’m so good at assimilating.
Bottom line: I’ve tried bubble tea. I can cross it off the list and never look back. I think Raven can send it off best:
Ma gurl </3
It’s time for another exciting adventure of The Picky Eater Chronicles! What did I try this time? Was it salmon? Was it caviar? Was it escargot? No!
It was a strawberry!
One thing that shocked my suite mates most about my eating habits was that I’ve never eaten a berry. I like strawberry yogurt, but I pick around the little strawberry pieces because I don’t like the texture. So while in Brussels, Belgium this weekend, my friend gave me a sliver of strawberry with a tiny bit of melted chocolate on it (but I couldn’t even taste the chocolate, so I don’t think that counts).
Me being super cute right before I try my first berry. Momentous occasion.
Verdict: It really wasn’t that bad. I made a face after I ate it and didn’t have any more, but the more I thought about it the more open I was to it. It was much better than the pieces in my yogurt, anyways.
When I got back from Belgium my other suite mate gave me a blueberry. Those things are so weird looking. Again, it wasn’t so bad. And again, I stopped eating after one. But I think I’d try either berry again. They didn’t make me vomit so that’s a plus on their side.
So now my suite mates can shut up about me never having eaten a berry because I’ve had TWO! I’m such a big girl.
Seeing as I’m in Ireland, it only seems fitting that my first attempt at this culinary journey be at fish and chips. I tried them for the first time at Beshoff’s in Howth. It’s this cute little fishing village right on the water, and the bus driver said Beshoff’s was THE fish and chips place. I figured if ever I was going to try them, now was the time.
Now, keep in mind that it’s not like I was just trying deep fried fish for the first time or something. I think I took a very tiny bite of tilapia at the food tasting for my brother’s wedding a few months ago. I think. That’s about as far as my fishy adventures have ever gotten. So this was a big deal, people.
Good news! I didn’t vomit or anything! I actually ate most of it! I can’t say I cared for the vinegar, but the fish itself didn’t really taste like anything but batter (which is a good thing for me). As someone who has lived off of chicken fingers for the past 21 years, that familiar taste of fried batter was quite welcome.
Bad news! My first encounter with fish and chips went so well that I ordered them again the next day (there was nothing else on the menu I would eat #PickyEaterProblems). I got through about half the dish before I made the mistake of flipping the fish over after some of the batter had fallen off. I saw the gray scaly imprint (what was that, exactly? I don’t know how fish work) on the fish and immediately gagged and stopped eating. Something about being reminded I was eating fish and not chicken really did me in.
I’m not saying I’ll never eat fish and chips again. Like I said, they didn’t really have much of a taste, and I can do bland. Bland is where I live. But as long as there’s chicken on the menu, I’ll be ordering that!
I recently arrived in Dublin, Ireland where I’ll be spending the rest of the semester. Everything’s been awesome–I love Ireland! But my suite mates informed me the other night that I have a seriously under-developed diet. Of course, I’ve always known that I’m a picky eater, but my suite mates’ incessant teasing on the subject for the past 48 hours has inspired me to try more than just a Guinness while I’m abroad. Besides, this is a nice, sneaky way of writing a travel blog disguised as a food blog (mwahaha you suckers have to read about me studying abroad now!).
I figure if I can leave home to go live in a foreign country for a few months, have my first apartment and internship, and survive without access to Pandora, I can also try a few foods. I guess this is what they mean by “growing up”. But probably not, considering the stuff I’ll likely be trying is food most toddlers eat.
So here’s to the meals to come!
P.S. I’d like it to be known that for every food I try that I don’t like I get to go find myself some ice cream. It only seems fair.