|Male Survival Foods
When a man reaches the age of about 40 years (or even younger, especially
if he is married and/or has children), a peculiar evolutionary phenomenon
occurs. He develops (suddenly, if he has not done so already) a taste for
a particular item of "food" prepared his own way. Once prepared,
this item of "food" is totally inedible to any other human being -- and
perhaps to any other Terran life-form. The man in question does this
in order to insure his continued survival; if he keeps a serving of this
"food" around, he will always have something to eat, since no one else
will touch it (except, perhaps, to throw it away, but usually, it smells
so bad that most people don't want to even APPROACH it.)
In the case of my father, his particular Male Survival Foods include:
Hot Dog Soup
Fried Bologna Soup
Fried Bologna on Incinerated Wheat Toast
Mustard and Relish on Incinerated Wheat Toast
Incinerated Wheat Toast dipped in Pickle Juice
Incinerated Wheat Toast dipped in Pea Juice
Incinerated Wheat Toast dipped in Green Bean Juice
I have data on several of my friends' father's Survival Foods:
Joe Simanis' father: Sauerlettuce
This was lettuce which was stored in plastic bags in the refrigerator
until it begins to rot. When it got juicy, it was ready to eat.
Eamon Dowling's father: Campbell's Cream of Celery Soup, with
Colleen Moore's father: Instant Garbage TM
Mix potatoes, some sort of meat or fish (if fish, preferably one that
you caught yourself),
and any leftover vegetables, rice, etc. from the refrigerator -- the
older the better. Fry in
a pan. Just before removing the pan from the stove, crack one egg over
it and stir. Adding the egg is the crucial step -- it converts the
'stir-fry' into something inedible. The trick is to make sure that
the egg is still mostly raw after removing the pan from the stove.
Chris Bresnehan's father: Fatal Onions
"He would take a large onion -- RAW -- cut it in half, and sprinkle
pepper on it until the top of it was black. Then, he would dice it
into large chunks. He would drink a large glass of ice water with
this "dinner," look over at me and say, "This would kill (a normal) man."
Melissa's father: Bananas and mayonnaise sandwiches
Canned corned beef, mixed together with hashbrown potato. As
per Instant Garbage above, add eggs shortly before removing from heat.
Ed's father: Dill sliced pickles and sauerkraut
"He will eat these items right out of the respective can or jar.
I have seen him open a can of kraut, get a fork, and begin to munch in
a contented way resembling a grazing herbivore."
Ann's father: Mexican Mushroomy Meat - a.k.a. Onomonotopia Stew
"His favorite dish is 'mushroomy meat stuff.' He bought a huge
"cooker" that slowly cooks this stuff... It's meat, cut into huge
chunks, with lots of unwashed mushrooms. (I don't think my father
washes off the dirt, because sometimes, I swear I could taste a grain of
sand), onions, some sort of vegetable barely cut into 3 inch pieces.
By the time it's cooked... it's this stuff... that is dripping in fat...
it's really kind of disgusting... My father tried to put a
little bit of variety into it by adding Mexican spices... I don't
even have to tell you if it got any better."
Charley's father: Kraft Macaroni & Cheese. If out of
butter, substitute garlic salt.
"With my father (Clifford) the only thing that he truly needs to keep
himself going is pork! If
he doesn't get his Required Daily Intake of Pork he is absolutely unbearable.
My brother gets
this from him; he loves it just as much as Dear Ol' Dad, but nothing
can top the angry look on
my father's face when you tell him that we are out of sausage...
He even make my brother and
sister's friends bring a pound of bacon to our house if they are spending
the night. If they
don't... well, lets just say its not a pretty sight. The women in the
house, including myself,
eat meat... I actually love meat (I'm an omnivore for crying out loud,
I have these pointy teeth
for a reason!), but sometimes too much pork is just that, TOO MUCH
"For my dad, it's his popcorn - not so strange, right? Well,
my dad will only eat HIS popcorn - cooked by him, in HIS popper.
This popper is at least 30 years old -- one of those kinds with a hand
crank on the top. 1/2 stick of butter, 1 cup of popcorn - high flame.
Charlie, you'd love this thing -- it's got such a build-up of oil/butter
on it that it regularly catches on fire!!!! He won't let Mom
wash it - says it's "seasoned." Every couple months, he'll throw
it in the oven for a couple hours - I have
no idea why..."
"My father has this famous soup he makes that no one else will touch.
It is different every time because it consists of whatever that happens
to be hanging out in the refrigerator. It might be leftovers, it
might be lunchmeat, it might be strange canned product we never heard of.
He does this with a salty base of Jewish minestrone soup mix and overcooked
random bits of pasta. He's even been known to use leftover barbecue,
Chinese egg drop, and Peruvian hot sauce called Aji decorated with tons
of oregano. One time he boiled rotini so much it uncurled.
This may be hereditary because he complains how when he was a child his
father made dreadful soups. One time he said he opened the [door]
to [the kitchen] and to his horror, he saw some animal head staring back
up at him floating next to its claws. His sister told us how one
day he actually achieved making a multi-colored broth. My father's
soups were never quite so bad as that, but they are strange. One
day when I was in high school he tried to pay my sister and I each a dollar
to try his soup. We passed up that offer but my neighbor Susanna
who we went to school with tried the mystery soup and even has had seconds.
The best part about dad's soup is that he never tells us what's in it because
he know were afraid. Sometimes we don't know when he's lying about
what's in the soup or not. Sometimes its safer to ask what's not
in the soup. Once my father experimented with whole, canned potatoes.
He told my little sister that they were ostrich eggs and she believed him.
It should have seemed too far of base. Whenever either of us asked
what kind of meat was in the soup he would tell us that it was horse.
One day he told us that it was Mr. Ed. Again, he could have been
right, we never know for sure, but it kind of tasted like chicken.
Sometimes dad's soup worked to our benefit. Whenever mom would come
home from work and find that dad made soup, we would always get to go out
to dinner. They always say 'That which does not kill us makes us
stronger'. My sister and I are living proof."
Tony’s father: Fried Italian Leftover Trash Heap
Background: My Father, Pasquale Mosconi, was born in 1925, in
the coal mining area of Wheeling, West Virginia, and Powhatton Point, Ohio.
He and his two younger brothers didn't have a whole lot to eat during those
years. I believe this scarred him deeply, and thus was the impetus
for not wanting to waste any food.... ever!
I often ate my dinners to the comforting comments of, "Clean your plate!",
and "There are people in India starving ...". Sure, we had leftovers,
but they never made it to the trash. One of us would eat them, and
as a last resort, my Father would take care of them.
Well, we are all grown up now, and have left the roost. My Mother
passed away in 1985, so the job of taking care of leftovers has fallen
solely to my Father. This is how we have finally come to his Survival
Food aptly named:
Fried Italian Leftover Trash Heap (or F.I.L.T.H as I like to call it)
Take one large skillet. Open refrigerator and remove any/all leftovers.
Make sure you have the three mainstay ingredients of spaghetti sauce, cottage
cheese, and parmesan cheese. Throw in leftovers (usually a little
spaghetti, with some zucchini and rice) Add sauce. Bring to simmer.
Cover smoke alarms, and alert local Fire Department and EMT that no one
has died. Find a dish that can be thrown away. Stir frequently
with utensil that has been acid and heat tested. Dish onto plate
or into bowl, and mix in cottage cheese. Sprinkle liberally with
parmesan cheese, and consume.
This page is dedicated to all fathers everywhere who have
managed to make others ill with the sight or scent of their cooking.