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I used to eat Limburger cheese with my Pap-Pap.

I don't remember eating Limburger cheese. My Pap-Pap would eat it, and I'd eat along with him. I do remember hearing the adults marvel that I would eat "that stuff."

As small children go, I must have been strange. I'd eat anything. Most kids I see today eat two or three things, and I marvel they don't die of some strange malnutrition. For me as a child, if someone else would eat it, then so would I. The adults would be amazed at what I eat, which became a game for me. What can I do to freak out the parental units? I'd eat things the adults wouldn't dare try, just to watch them cringe.

My parents had to put up with a lot, didn't they?

I have few memories of my grandfather. The clearest memory is of him was eating dog treats — those hard short red cylinder things that the dogs were always disappointed at, since they were hoping for chicken or chocolate. I was sitting on my Pap-Pap's lap. Even I thought the dog treats were a bit strange to eat. They were crunchy but way too hard. Obviously, I'd already tried them and decided they weren't worth the effort. My aunt found us on the back porch, my grandfather eating the dog treats. My aunt ordered her father to stop eating the dog treats. Pap-Pap didn't like his children telling him what to do. He held a knife to his throat and threatened to kill himself if she was unhappy with what he ate. As a kid, I was, like, "Ok. This is normal. Another common event." As an adult, I'm appropriately horrified, but I also note this one-time incident didn't have any lasting effects on me other than create a strong memory. This isn't a memory I repressed or hate to be reminded of.

Limburger cheese was something I ate as a kid. Why shouldn't I eat it as an adult? As an adult, I've had all the cartoon programming pushed into my brain about how bad Limburger cheese smells. Who is right? I ate it as a kid, why not now? For years, I've looked for Limburger cheese. Finally, last week, I found it at Giant Eagle. I bought it, some crackers, and headed home.The cheese sat in the refrigerator. I don't like to admit I'm afraid to eat anything, but the cheese just sat there. What if it stank up the house so bad that Nancy couldn't take it? What if I couldn't eat it, or even threw up? I'll eat anything, or so I say. I have a self-concept to maintain, and this Limburger cheese might just break it.

Well, Nancy can't smell a thing with the cold. She can't taste regular food, and it's making it hard for her to get in enough fluids. When I woke at 4 a.m. this morning, I knew this was the time to try the Limburger cheese. Nancy was still asleep, the smell should go away before she gets up, and even so, she can't smell anything.

I got out the cheese and some crackers and aluminum foil. There were no baggies in the drawer, but I can wrap something up airtight in aluminum foil. I smelled the outside of the Limburger cheese package. There really wasn't much of an odor. I opened it up and sniffed again. Ok, that's not a great smell. I cut through the rind and smelled again. At one point, there was a bit of a stench that made me wonder if I'd get sick, but the smell quickly moderated. I put a slice on a cracker and tried it.

The rind tasted like every cheese rind, and I thought of some Brie cheese I've eaten. The Limburger cheese itself was strong. The taste wasn't great. This was something I think I would have eaten simply because my Pap-Pap was eating it. I tried another slice, with about the same results. I didn't pass out from the smell, but Limburger cheese isn't something I'd normally choose. I'll eat straight blue cheese for the fun of it. I can't picture choosing to eat Limburger cheese.

Being able to eat something is different from choosing to eat it.

Most disappointing of all, there were no memories. I was hoping that the taste would bring back better times of my grandfather. He died while I was young, and the last year, I didn't see him at all. In the '60s, cancer was shameful, something you hid so that people wouldn't fear you were a carrier. But no memories, other than of Brie cheese rind, came to mind.

I sadly wrapped up the Limburger cheese in the foil, using some tricks to make sure it would be airtight. I put it back in the cheese drawer in the refrigerator, and I wondered why I bothered. Wouldn't I just have to throw it out later? This isn't something I'd choose for a snack.

As I sit here and write this, though, I think that perhaps I might try again with the Limburger cheese. Now that I've learned the smell won't kill me or make me do a "technicolor yawn," the next time won't be so disconcerting.

Maybe I'll remember my grandfather next time, a memory more pleasant than the dogfood and knife incident.

Have you ever made tacos at home? When you go to fill them up, the tacos tip over, and a lot of filling (meat, lettuce, cheese, sauce, olives, sour cream, chilies, jalapeno pepper slices, bananas, whatever) falls out. They do make flat bottomed tacos, but they're more expensive. Instead, I bought a wonderful little gadget that solves the problem!

I think it's cool, but I can't help but wonder if this post is in competition for the "Most Useless Post Ever" award.

Taco Holder in the 2 taco configuration

Most technological gadgets come either with an incomprehensible manual or no manual at all. The taco holders were the latter; there were no instructions. After much debate, Nancy and I (both with engineering background) decided that the taco holders were designed to hold two tacos. The little "feet" on the ends were what caused us to decide the taco holders are designed for three.

Taco Holder in the 3 taco configuration.

Turned upside down, the taco holder can clearly hold 3 tacos. Of course, in this conformation, the feet no longer provide stability. We decided that the taco holder might just be usable instead of plates, if you center the tacos and you're not eating outside on a windy day. But Nancy and I eat our tacos in the house, and ingredients dripping out the ends of the taco would create even more work tha we already have to do because of the parrots. Although, as I think about it, the parrots would eliminate a bit of that problem. Parrots can function like dogs on occasion if you give them floor-roaming privilieges.

But we use plates, and if the taco holder in the 3 taco configuration tips, the tacos will stop it from falling further. Hence, we generally use the taco holder in the 3 taco position.

Taco Holder holding 3 daco shells.

We had tacos for dinner last night. To help with our diets, we use ultra-lean meat, limit the cheese, use a lot of lettuce, and that sort of thing. Here you can see the tacos ready to be filled. If you notice, the taco holder is, in fact, in the 3 taco position, holding 3 tacos.

The holders came in a pack of four, with 4 different colors: red, green, yellow, and purple. I like garish colors, and so pickd the red. Nancy chose the yellow.

Taco Holder holding 3 filled tacos.

Here we have the filled tacos on my plate. You'll notice the tacos are quite stable, even using the taco holder in the less-stable configuration. The tacos were delicious, even if I didn't add sour cream, chilies, olives, jalapeno peppers, or bananas.

I'm kidding about the bananas, by the way. The other items might actually get added to a taco.

If, by any chance, you see a competition for the "Most Useless Post Ever," I would appreciate a nomination.

Back when I worked Medic 1 in the Homewood district of Pittsburgh, there was a wonderful takeout place called "Woodside Barbecue." The offerings were many on the menu, but the two best were the chicken and the battered potato wedges, both covered with the Woodside Barbecue Sauce.

The Woodside Barbecue Sauce was different. No tomato was harmed in the making of this sauce: it was mustard based and reasonably hot. The sauce was different, but it was also wonderful: EMS, police, and Fire units would make desperate (and often futile) attempts to get food there during a shift. When Woodside Barbecue caught fire, public safety personnel did their best to try to save the place. Perhaps their reasons were not as high-minded as they should have, but there's no debating they tried.

I was off. I came into work the next day to find out Woodside was gone. I tried to find the owners, but failed. I wanted to offer them money for their recipe for the mustard based sauce.

I never saw the sauce again.

In playing with the Internet, I came across two recipes for a mustard-based barbecue sauce. They can be found here and here. I'm going to try them, and if any of them come close to matching the old Woodside recipe, I'll let you know.

Now if only I knew how to make the potato wedges the way they did…. Ah, I'm a diabetic. I'll stick with the chicken.

A friend started selling Pampered Chef products. I needed a new wok, and I was sick of the ones I could find here. And yeah, she's a good friend, so I figured "Hey, why not?" and got the Professional Stir-Fry Skillet.

This stir fry skillet absotively posilutely rocks! You need one!

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