I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not overly adventurous about a lot of stuff, and it’s probably most apparent when it comes to food. If something doesn’t feel right to me about its looks, taste or texture, I’m not gonna like it. Here’s an example; I do not eat cereal. It’s a texture thing. I must’ve taken one spoon of whatever as a baby, then had a negative reaction strong enough to put me off all kinds of cereal forever. There’s a few other foods I don’t like for sundry reasons, but that’s not what this Epis0de is about. This Epis0de is about creamy pasta, or more accurately, my Damascene moment involving creamy pasta.
When it comes to creamy pasta, my beef was always purely based off regarding it as an aberration, a culinary offense against the palate if you will (A lot of the world’s prejudice must be founded in ignorance, because what right did I have to hold this opinion of something I’d never even tried?). To clarify beyond doubt, I have absolutely nothing against pasta on its own merit. I rank pasta as easily one of the greatest things ever out of Italy alongside the Mona Lisa, Carlo Ancelotti’s 2002-2007 AC Milan and Andrea Bocelli. Prepared almost any number of ways, it’s usually a treat for the stomach. But with cream? My brain just couldn’t handle it. And then discovering that it was a big hit on many a restaurant menu in Lagos? Well, that only made it worse. The world had gone mad.
Anyway, about six months after the above unfortunate tweet, my partner and I went out to eat. Because she loves food and dining out, she’s always trying to get me to step out of my culinary comfort zone, which usually takes some doing. I was just gonna order wings or something else I was used to, but then she gave me a Look and asked me to try something I hadn’t eaten before. I looked at the menu, and there it was. Creamy. Goddamn. Seafood. Pasta. I still don’t know why I ordered it. Probably just so I could have an ironclad reason for why I don’t like to try new food that I could use and reuse in the future. The waiter came back with our meals, and I started rehearsing my “I told you so.” What happened after that pretty much went like this:
If you have someone in your life who’s usually right about nearly everything, you know the smirk they have on their face when something goes the way they thought/said it would. You can probably even picture it right now. After enduring that smirk and some admittedly well-earned gloating, I then had to tweet a retraction of all my slander on the spot:
On the way home, I remember thinking to myself, What other preconceived notions do I have that I’m also wrong about? Why do I even have them anyway? I know it’s not necessarily normal to find a lesson in every goddamn thing that happens to you, but the truth is that learning experiences and teachable moments happen quite regularly in life, sometimes even in the unexpected. I think that keeping an open mind makes life and living more fun, and hating something that you’ve never actually interacted negatively with is just lazy. An open mind allows you to step out of your comfort zone more often and even attract new opportunities. For example, starting Epis0des is something I couldn’t have done without being in the mental space to see the possibilities. And since that dinner I’ve walked back a few other opinions and learned some new things. Speaking of walking, one of those opinions I’ve changed my mind about may or may not involve feet. That’s all I’m willing to say at this time. Thank you.
Prejudice is a well-known human emotion. It forms part of the core of every -ism and schism. These days, especially these days, I think there’s a lot to be said for keeping and open mind and questioning why you should feel a way about something, instead of feeding into the hate that’s been passed on to you. Unless when it comes to cereal. Because I will never eat it. Ever.
Creamy pasta... not for me
Preach, Pasta!