Just look at what these hands have made

"Taste this and tell me what you think this is." I took the spoon and closed my eyes. How many components does it have? Two. I let it sit on my tongue for a second and then took another bite. Does it have butter? He looked up, yes one of them is butter. I knew that it was a trick question because he was staring straight through my skull into my brain as I tried to figure it out. Cream? Goat's milk? Chevre? God, I have no idea. At least I got butter. "It's boiled white onion." A smile crept across my face as the reality hit me. I couldn't taste onion in the slightest bit. It was smooth and creamy composed of white froth that stuck to the back of the spoon. But it was onion all the same. That's the thing about food. Take away the extra large portions of garlic mashers with white gravy and the three pound hamburgers that drip grease down your fingers and give people the chance to enjoy food again. Why as a country of family diners do we constantly substitute basic well cooked ingredients for fast unhealthy options. We had a family tonight come into the sandbar and one of the little girls ordered the octopus seviche. She must have been seven or eight and there she was having a glass of water and cooked octopus tenticles dressed in lime, cilantro, and red peppers. I remember growing up and wanting to taste everything, if it was on a menu and I had never heard of it before that was what I ordered. I'm so tired of hearing that so and so doesn't eat that. Or the duck didn't taste like chicken at all. Or why can't we just get a pizza. Food should bring a smile to your face every once in a while. It should suprise and uplift you, remind you of places you've been or people you have been in love with. And for pete's sake, if someone askes you to taste something without telling you what it is, please just put it in your mouth and take a wild guess. It might be onions.