Okra. The Other White Meat

I had to post this while it was on my mind....

Sixth grade. We had just moved to a new town and I had just started at a new school. It was middle school -- one of those periods in your life when being viewed a weirdo isn't exactly what you strive for.

One day, very early on the year, I'm standing in the lunch line and deciding what sides I want with my meal. There's a bowl of chicken nuggets. So, yeah, hey, I wanted some chicken nuggets to go with what I had on my tray.

Fast forward to a couple minutes later, I pick up one of the nuggets, take a bite out of it, and ..... WHAT IS THIS GROSS TASTE?

I take it out of my mouth, look at it, and see green. I'm not sure exactly what I said; I think it was something like, "This is no chicken nugget. It's green." Whatever I commented, it got laughs from the entire table.

In my own defense, how was I to know that what was completely breaded over and from the outside looked like a chicken nugget was actually not a chicken nugget and some kind of fried southern vegetable. I still shudder when I think of that taste. And I still can't eat okra.

Which leads me to....

My daughter absolutely loves okra. I don't get that. And I don't see how with my taste buds' disdain for it, she inherited a love of it. Of course, my wife likes okra. So that's where she gets it. 

Along with her love of cornbread. And for grits. Both of which I hate.

Oh well, I guess I'm raising a Southern girl who loves okra. Totally loves it. She eats it like it's candy. I just watched her devour an entire plate of it.

Yuck. Absolutely, yuck.

To her it's a treat. To me, it will always be the other white meat. That I don't eat.