British Husband Tries American Food 🍔
## Beans on Toast to BBQ Brisket: A Brit's Brave Foray into the American Foodscape
For 35 years, my culinary world had been a comforting shade of beige. Think sausages, mash, the occasional curry, and of course, the ubiquitous beans on toast. My palate, nurtured on a diet of predictable flavours and moderate spices, was, to put it kindly, unadventurous. Then, I married an American.
This wasn't just a merging of hearts, but a collision of cultures, especially when it came to food. Suddenly, I wasn't just dealing with baked beans; I was facing a culinary landscape as vast and varied as the American continent itself. Gone were the gentle slopes of shepherd's pie; I was now scaling the towering peaks of a double-bacon cheeseburger.
My first American food revelation? Thanksgiving dinner. The sheer abundance was overwhelming. Cranberry sauce, a concept entirely foreign to me (fruit with meat? Sacrilege!), sat next to a mountain of mashed potatoes. The turkey, majestic and intimidating, was the centrepiece. But it was the stuffing that truly baffled me. A mixture of bread, herbs, and…what WAS that mystery ingredient? (It turned out to be sausage, which I begrudgingly admitted was a stroke of genius). That night, I ate until I could barely breathe, a feat of endurance usually reserved for Boxing Day sales.
The adventure continued. I bravely tackled biscuits and gravy, a Southern delicacy that sounded deeply unappetising but tasted surprisingly divine (though I still struggle with the name - it's not a biscuit, and the gravy is more of a creamy, peppery sauce!). I discovered the joy of BBQ brisket, slow-cooked until it practically melts in your mouth, a far cry from the boiled beef I was used to. Even seemingly simple things like a grilled cheese sandwich were elevated to an art form with the addition of different cheeses and gourmet bread.
Of course, not everything was a hit. I still can't quite get on board with grits, which taste suspiciously like slightly grainy porridge. And the prevalence of sugar in everything, from bread to sauces, sometimes leaves me feeling like I'm wading through treacle. But these minor setbacks are just part of the fun.
The biggest surprise? I've started to crave it. The bold flavours, the unapologetic indulgence, the sheer variety…it's all strangely addictive. I find myself suggesting pizza nights, eagerly anticipating pulled pork sandwiches, and even occasionally dreaming of those damn biscuits and gravy.
My American food journey has been more than just trying new dishes. It’s been about stepping outside my comfort zone, embracing new experiences, and opening myself up to a world of flavour I never knew existed. I may still cling to my beans on toast on occasion, but now, I know there's a whole lot more out there to savour. And who knows, maybe one day I’ll even learn to appreciate grits. Stranger things have happened.
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