We’re all disgusting humans. If you claim to not be one, you just happen to be a disgusting human and a liar.
Prompted by the news of Pizza Hut’s abominable pizza/hot dog hybrid this week, members of the Uproxx staff decided to confess to some very disgusting and shameful eating habits of both past and present. We are not healthy people.
So, for this week’s Friday Conversation, we ask: What is your most disgusting and shameful food story or eating habit?
The oddest thing I’ve eaten is a hard question because I don’t feel it’s that odd. Burgers with beets on them, kangaroo, it’s all pretty good and off the beaten path. There’s also the hillbilly type cuisine like squirrel, but I’ve never eaten dog or cat that I know of.
Worst thing was eating Fruity Pebbles with whipped cream as a kid. I should be dead or immobile at this point, but I’m away from it.
Puberty and running have since improved my physical appearance, but for much of my early life I was your proverbial fat kid. Which is why, despite the aforementioned improvements, I’ve retained several poor eating habits. Like buying a block of cheddar, slicing the entire thing into thick strips, and dipping these into a bowl of ranch dressing. My arteries are like C’MON AT ME BRO. Seriously thought, it’s so damn good. Picture your typical American salad, but take away all the vegetables and green stuff — what Ron Swanson calls the food his food eats — and you’re left with cheese and ranch dressing. i.e. AMERICAN SALAD.
As Uproxx’s food expert and resident fat person, please allow me to tell you about the time I ate so much at a Pizza Hut buffet that my college roommates carried me out on their shoulders like Rudy. Also, one time, I ate 12 Klondike Bars in one sitting. Also, I ordered six egg rolls for dinner just now.
I’m not a healthy person.
I’ve generally been a picky eater since childhood, when I wouldn’t even consider eating anything that came from the ocean or was served in a shade of green. Since then, my tastes have evolved and I’ll now try just about anything, but I’ve also hit that post-30 point where I finally care about everything that goes into my body, because I’d prefer that my son not have to shoulder my funeral bills when I die at 47. So while I’m not sure if I have any particularly gross food pleasures (like, I love crazy ballpark food, but I’m nowhere near as adventurous as Spilly) and Taco Bell is my only fast-food guilt, I suppose the one thing that I still eat today that I ate when I was a child and have never even thought about removing from my diet is goddamned Totino’s Pizza Rolls.
I will eat those unhealthy little pouches of hot pasty lava death until my appointment with St. Peter comes up on my iPhone calendar, and the best part about it all is that when my son asks if he can have one, I’ll look that little punk straight in the eyes and tell him, “Finish that broccoli, kid. This here’s adult food.”
Most days, my grandma would pick me up from middle school (god forbid I ride the bus, or worse, walk). There was a 7-Eleven about 30 yards from the campus, and before even saying “hi” to Grandma, I’d insist on her taking me there so I could get nachos. The word “nachos” is used loosely here — they are circular corn chips with serve-yourself pump “cheese.” And serve-yourself I did. My signature move was taking a coffee cup and filling it to the top with cheese (so I could get more, you see), and then putting three or four chips in the cheese cup so they could get adequately soggy by the time we got home. Those were my favorite chips. I saved them for last. So I guess my grossest eating habit was soggy 7-Eleven nachos, which I would not be above devouring at 2 a.m.
Back in high school, some friends of mine and I did a science experiment at the movie theater where we worked; we put some brewer’s yeast, some seltzer, and a Starburst in a cup and tried to ferment it. I drank the resulting fluid after milking my coworkers for as much cash as I could get.
I blamed what happened next on the flu if anybody asked. The symptoms were remarkably similar.
So, I was in Lima, Peru for a few months and had no idea about anything. Cool place, but had zero knowledge about it before getting there. I went to a restaurant down the street that looked pretty good (I had walked by it a few times days before and the food smelled great), posted up and grabbed a menu. They started me off with some yellow, bubblegum-flavored soda that was balls-to-the-wall awesome — “I musta drank me bout 15 Docta Peppas” awesome. I then, randomly, picked a menu item called “Anticuchos.” Seemed fine. They brought it out, and it was beyond good. Cleaned my plate. As I was getting up the waiter told me it was cow heart. I smiled. Gagged a bit. And then kept living my life.
My weird food creation is putting two cans of chicken-noodle soup in a huge bowl then pouring a bag of microwave popcorn into it. It’s basically the same idea as soup crackers, I guess, though there’s something about the extra saltiness that draws me to it. That or there were no crackers in my house the first time I did it and substituted popcorn in a pinch.
I used to eat toothpaste as a kid. Like, a lot of toothpaste. My parents would rarely buy snacks, so I had to improvise to get my hands on some tasty treats. From my personal experience, Aquafresh was the most delicious. It probably wasn’t the healthiest indulgence, but I turned out fine. Kind of.
In the great breakfast-meat debate of bacon vs. sausage, this Philly girl passes on both in favor of Scrapple. Now, I don’t think Scrapple is weird or gross, but it’s one of those things that, if you didn’t grow up with it, it’s easy to see why this is a thing most people would not want to eat. According to Wikipedia, Scrapple is “traditionally a mush of pork scraps and trimmings combined with cornmeal and wheat flour, and spices. The mush is formed into a semi-solid congealed loaf, and slices of the scrapple are then pan-fried before serving.”
Mmm! Congealed loaf of pork scraps! Trust me, it’s delicious. Preferably crispy on the outside, mushy on the inside and slathered with ketchup. It’s the sole reason why I could never move away from Philly or go vegetarian.
I’m one of those people who eats one part of a meal at a time — that’s right, there’s no mingling of mains and sides from this guy. I know I’m not alone here, so I refuse to be bullied by food purists into believing I’m weird, but I suppose it’s nontraditional. But what can I say? I’m borderline OCD about boundaries; my desk is highly organized, I get anxiety if a picture is crooked on my wall, and I take Radiohead’s “Everything In Its Right Place” entirely too close to heart. While some of my separatist peers will go side, side, main; or main, side, side; I mix it up by starting with my least favorite portion of the meal and work up toward the favorite. The reason for that? Simple: I treat my food like an exercise in tantric love-making, nearly torturing myself as I build anticipation to the ultimate moment of pleasure. When that first taste of steak touches my tongue after suffering through grilled asparagus and sweet potato, my unconventional eating habits are entirely worth it.
Go ahead, tell us how vile you are in the comments below.