We all have our weird food things, or know people with weird food things. That friend who puts mustard on pizza. The aunt who insists of putting ice in her wine. Your ex-boyfriend who likes his steak so rare, it might still be breathing.
But we’re none of us food purists, right? We all have things. So, in this safe space on the internet, we ask our staff and you, our beloved Takeout readers: Tell us about the seemingly weird ways you eat certain dishes?
I blame my kids’ best babysitter for introducing me to this one: Dumping a bag of M&Ms into a bag of buttered popcorn at the movies. Once I went there, I have never gone back. The sweet-savory combo automatically makes this the greatest movie snack ever achieved. I can’t bear either item on its own now, knowing how much better they are combined, even as the kids and I grapple for the remaining M&Ms at the bottom of the bag.
When I was a kid, raised on an almost exclusive diet of PB&J, I used to separate my sandwich into its jelly slice and peanut butter slice at lunchtime. Probably because this just extended my lunch meal: The jelly with just a touch of peanut butter definitely had its merits, but what about the peanut-butter-laced-with-jelly selection? It took a long time for me to eat those sandwiches together again like a normal person.
I also scrape the top of Fig Newtons off with my teeth. Hey, don’t knock it ’til you try it. [Gwen Ihnat]
Peanut butter straight out of the container is one of my favorite snacks, so much so that a jar hardly lasts more than a week in our house. But I don’t just dive right in there with a spoon like some kind of animal, no no, I gently scrape the surface of the creamy peanut butter with the side of a spoon, curling thin layers before I lick them off the spoon.
A therapist might have something to say about this: “Kate, you are attempting to impose a sense of order and restraint on what is inherently an indulgent act.” I can’t explain why I do this, but I’ve always eaten peanut butter this way. I also do the scraping-the-surface thing with cottage cheese, though not yogurt. So what say you, Freud? [Kate Bernot]
I believe the Sausage Egg McMuffin is one of our greatest breakfast sandwiches. My relationship with the SEM is so strong and unyielding, I’m comfortable in performing strange acts upon the sandwich without batting an eyelash. That is, I consume it in a very specific way: I’ll eat around the perimeter of the SEM, where the toasted edge of the English muffin lies (the crispiness is one of its most satisfying qualities). Once I make one full revolution, I’ll throw away the denuded center muffin top—these are empty calories and carbs—then finish the rest of the McMuffin as an open-faced sausage and egg sandwich. This is how I save 30-or-so calories, and yes, I am an insane person. [Kevin Pang]
All right, Takeout commentariats: Have at it, tell us about your bizarre eating habits. Consider it public therapy.