Tarrogon and Washing My Mouth Out With Soap

Filed Under: Food and Drink, Life
Vintage Ivory Soap


I am so tired of coming up with what to make for dinner every night so we’ve gone back to–yet again–Healthy Calendar Diabetic Cooking: A Full Year of Simple, Menus and Easy Recipes and let me tell you, that’s not a bad thing.

For an entire year, you have a day-by-day recipe book complete with weekly shopping lists…though I do wish the lists were per month. It’s a bitch of a bitch to make per week lists and then have to amend them as I go to the next list.

Not the point.

Last night I made some turkey burgers with tarragon and orange. I’m all about trying new things. I also made a fabulous low fat potato salad that shall be made again.

The tarragon and orange turkey burgers. Not so much.

As is par for the course, Ollie dove in like his life depended on it and Cara turned up her rather cute nose; she had a peanut butter and jelly for dinner.

I ate my potato salad and finally tucked into my burger and it seemed vaguely familiar.

I kept doing that thing wine tasters do where they do the weird mouth breather thing to better taste the flavors.

“Does this remind you of something?” I asked Tucker.

“No. Why?” he responded.

“Hmm…I’ve tasted this before but I can’t remember when…”

And then it hit me.

Turkey + orange + tarragon=soap in the mouth.

Tarragon is forever dead to me and it smells so damn good. Well, it smelled so damn good before I tasted those blasted turkey burgers.

I don’t leave food on my plate…unless it’s beef liver and onions. And here I was thinking Cara was being crazy and picky. Girl, I’m right there with you.

Soap in the mouth.

When I was little and at a very good pre-school, I had my mouth washed out with soap. I don’t remember why but I clearly remember the sink was a standard pedestal sink and I’m pretty sure the soap was Ivory soap; I know it was a white bar of soap.

I’m not going to get into whether or not you should wash your kid’s mouth out with soap–I’ve already addressed the spanking thing–but that taste combination brought me back to the four year old me.

Isn’t it funny how a taste, sound or smell can teleport you back to past you?

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