Monthly Archives: March, 2015

In Bad Taste

Last week, I had oral surgery. Not too much to say about it, except it was incredibly expensive, excruciatingly painful, and at least temporarily, disfiguring. No big. I’m feeling much better, if still a bit sore; and finally starting to look less like Marlon Brando in The Godfather, and more like a cute little squirrel preparing for winter. Walnut cheeked, as opposed to the one eyed apple cheek look I was flashing there for a few days. It’s all good.
Except one thing is still bad. And that is the taste in my mouth, and the taste of everything I’m putting in my mouth. Yuck. Of course I’ve been eating mostly soft, squishy food, so I wasn’t expecting too much out of omelets or pudding or broth. But last weekend I made my famous garlic soup. This involves cooking down 28 garlic cloves and a pound of onions for a long, long time, and then simmering it with broth, pepper, a nice array of herbs and some torn up pieces of bread. Then you puree the whole shebang, cook it down some more and then throw in just a few globs of heavy cream, just to make it lusciously delicious. It’s a production, and the results are out of this world yummy. Except they weren’t. I literally couldn’t taste anything except a strange sour aftertaste. I thought maybe the garlic was bad, or somehow I had messed up the recipe, and eventually ended up throwing most of it out. Bummer.
Still not putting the clues together, I guess even my inner Nancy Drew was off kilter, I went out the other night for my favorite hummus, figuring I could at least get some satisfying nutrition with some delicious dip and soft pita bread. Again, nothing, except for that weird sour aftertaste. Becoming increasingly hangry (a wonderful portmanteau of “hungry” and “angry”) I broke my temporary no added sugar diet and broke into my emergency ice cream stash, Jeni’s Salty Caramel, which you better believe is the bomb-diggety of creams! And what you think? Cold, creamy sourness. Yuck!
The BFF (Perry? Terry?) and I had plans to go out to a really nice dinner this weekend. You see, we had booked a fantastic getaway weekend for this month, a long time ago. It was something I was really looking forward to, but with dental woes, money issues, and a whole factor of other things, the stars did not align, so we cancelled it. As a consolation prize, we were finally going to try out a fab new restaurant I’ve been dying to try for months. I had spent the week of deprivation pouring over the menu and strategizing just which delicious tidbits were going to be dancing their way down my gullet. It was a sad moment when I realized yesterday that this mission had to be scrubbed, as I emailed to Per-Ter, what would be the point if everything tastes like boiled ass? No point, no point indeed.
Last night, as I tried to choke down some noodles it finally dawned on me what the trouble could be. And yes, it took all week, but I’ve been in pain, and medicated. I’m using a prescription antibiotic rinse after every meal, and it is wicked tasting! So, I called the dentist to ask if a possible side effect to the rinse might be the death of every taste bud, and guess what? It is. The good news, it’s only temporary. As soon as I finish the rinse in a week, I can go back to happily grazing on the bounty of deliciousness that gives my life purpose. I mean, some of its purpose. Okay, a lot of it! And that, my friends, is something to smile about.
The end, for now