W1 blog

     There is some things all people intrinsically bear shame over. These can range from bad habits to deep secrets and anything in between. One of the most interesting things to hear about is a person's "shame food."
   
     My dad has always been a man of the earth. In that, I mean he is always trying to incorporate yields from the garden into the family meals. This usually tasted good in the end and impressed guests all the same.  There is one food my family eats that I hope no guest has to witness. That meal is goulash.

     It bears a smell that you can not ignore. Once the lid comes off the pan, everyone in a close proximity gets whiplash. The odor hits you like a wall of bricks. I don't know what concoction of spices my dad puts in. In fact, I hope I never do. The temptation to make this abomination would be too strong. Somehow, those spices come together to make some edible tear gas.

     And when I say my dad likes spicy food, it is an understatement. He always chuckles in a low voice as he slices up peppers and throws them in. The kind of chuckle that chills you to the bone. It is something so spicy that only my dad can enjoy. And only I can eat without being sick. The goulash evenings are those evenings where my mom and sister go into town for edible food. I am most always envious.

    I sit there in rolling tears as the goulash throws a tantrum in my mouth, brutally beating my taste buds. All the while, my mom and sister sit on the counter eating some wonderful burritos. Their feet swing back and forth off the stool. My feet are curled around the stool's legs like I am clinging for my life. The pressure in my legs helps lesson the pain of goulash.

     I am ever thankful for my mom being around. She keeps my dad in line. Thanks to her, goulash days are seldom had. This might explain why I still have feeling in my tongue......