About hated foods

About hated foods

She says, by @mammapolitico

As soon as this blog topic was suggested, an image came into my head. An image of me aged five years old. I’m sat at a small dining table in a huge dining hall, at my Primary School. Sat next to me Mrs Jack, a teacher, looking smug, impatient, constantly checking her watch. In front of me a plate with something indescribably awful laid out next to a pile of limp lettuce and grated carrot. I still remember Mrs Jack’s determined voice telling me that I was not leaving the dining room until I had eaten at least a quarter of the hideous cold Ox tongue that was the centre piece of my dinner plate. I remember cutting into the meat and thinking – this is a TONGUE! Try as a might, chew as I might, there was no way that tongue was going down my throat! There was one attempt and one attempt only to swallow – I left the dining room pretty swiftly soon afterwards, leaving the now not so smug teacher to clean up....

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