I Make No Bones About It
(alternate title: I Have a Bone to Pick with You)
I’m eating leftover fish, from Saturday dinner out with my parents at a local restaurant where I could not otherwise have afforded to eat. Can I just say how glad I am to NOT have found the part with bones still in it while I was there? Although I’m aware that it’s in incredibly poor taste to sit at the table with a disturbed facial expression, methodically parsing out the tiny bones inside my mouth, carefully pulling them out, and leaving them on the side of the plate…and although I know that many people eat little bones (hey, it’s calcium!) and do not die…I am thus far mentally incapable of letting them go down. Of course, I would be embarrassed if people saw me doing this at a restaurant…though I’m clearly not too embarrassed to tell all of you.
November 5th, 2007 at 8:23 pm
Oh, Liz! You have committed the cardinal sin of white people eating fish! Which is to be afraid of fish bones. The ones you can see, you can avoid and the others - well, you said it yourself. They’re calcium. And crunchy, too.
November 8th, 2007 at 6:20 pm
Sorry, it’s kind of a texture thing for me…!