Can't think of any. My mom was a great cook.

My dad was English. He boiled things to take all flavor and texture and color out and steak was always “well done” to the point of jerky.

The worst was continuing to make things they knew I didn’t like... someone else might like it, but I didn’t. Usually it was using the crock pot for ease of cooking for many dishes.

All in all, my most horrifying item is pretty small potatoes. We ate lots of different things and as such I can tolerate quite a few things. Freshwater fish is my only real dislike...

Neither my mother, nor my second wife could/can fry an egg to my liking. Both liked them fried on HIGH to where I called the white, snakeskin. I'm an "over-medium" guy.

My first wife couldn't fry bacon. It was either underdone or overdone. I like it crisp, but not destroyed. To her credit, she did learn. (My second wife solved that for me. She doesn't let me have bacon.)

Me and my three siblings didn't complain much growing up. We knew our options were to eat it, or go without. My parents grew up on Indiana farms, so we didn't eat "fancy". (My favorite was biscuits and sausage gravy. I could eat that three meals a day.)

Stuffing and dressing. corn bread and liver and onions.. Worst things ever food wise..
ds
coues

My mother added canned tuna to spaghetti sauce ! UGH ! Me, my two brothers and sister refused to eat it !

Hip

quote:

Originally posted by Hipshoot:
My mother added canned tuna to spaghetti sauce ! UGH ! Me, my two brothers and sister refused to eat it !

Hip

Dear God!


.

My mom was and at 92 still is a good cook. We were raised on a farm, and had lots of meat and garden vegetables. I didn’t know better at the time, but she over cooked lots of things.

Brussels sprouts boiled to within an inch of their lives.

I refuse to touch the disgusting things to this day - 50 years later

My father brought home a goose to fatten up for Christmas......my sister and I adopted it as a pet, gave it a name etc.....2 years later we came home from school to find the goose slaughtered and in the pot! ..... My father and Grandmother ate the goose.....

Mom, forgive me, but you did not have to boil the canned spinach! It was already wretched enough lukewarm ...

Cook it. Think of cabbage boiled for 30 minutes.

Dave

My grandmother would cook venison until all the bugs were killed in the meat. You can guess how well done it was.

quote:

Brussels sprouts boiled to within an inch of their lives.

yes yes yes

quote:

Mom, forgive me, but you did not have to boil the canned spinach! It was already wretched enough lukewarm ...

When Mom discovered Spam. Now when my son was little + was sitting down for a grapefruit half for breakfast my ex had sprinkled the top with what she thought was sugar but was actually salt. He had tears in his eyes as big as horse turds + she kept on railing him to stop crying + eat it damnit! Then when I went into the kitchen the truth was revealed. He doesn't like grapefruit to this day.

quote:

Originally posted by muzza:
Brussels sprouts boiled to within an inch of their lives.

I refuse to touch the disgusting things to this day - 50 years later

That was how my mom made them too. Absolute vomit inducers. I have discovered B sprouts are actually pretty good just stir fried with onions, butter and lemon juice.

Forced me to eat Banquet fried chicken dinners in the 1960's. They were wretched then, not so bad now in a convection oven.

Oh, another nasty one is boiled asparagus. Can't do that. I do like it raw.

quote:

Originally posted by muzza:
Brussels sprouts boiled to within an inch of their lives.

I refuse to touch the disgusting things to this day - 50 years later

Sprouts should be crispy.

By the way, what do you call a child born in a house of ill repute?

A BROTHEL SPROUT!

Asparagus. Brussels sprouts and all vegetables need to be roasted. Olive oil and salt Mmmmmm
It's a whole different flavor when roasted and caramelized.

Steaks well done.

Fried eggs well done.

Fish well done.

Other than that my mother was a great cook and she would vary my food from the above. That was what my father preferred.

I dated a woman many years ago that when she was cooking pancakes, instead of letting them rise, she would pat them down with the spatula. Obviously, they then resembled hockey pucks.