Does he state that specifically as something he won’t eat?
If so, are you sure he never tried it? Maybe he just won’t
touch any more… after the … unpleasantness.
An episode I watched had him eating durian. Seems he had eaten it several times before and never liked it. He still didn’t like it. So I don’t think that having a bad experience would stop him.
Walnuts. Zimmern can’t abide walnuts. He’s said that if he knows beforehand that something has walnuts in it, he won’t even try it. I saw him spit something out after tasting walnuts. He seemed rather distressed about it, if gamely good-humored as behooves a TV host.
Now that he’s a resident of Saint Paul, MN, I hope to meet him some day. I’ll invite him over for sandwiches - complete with Miracle Whip - and all shall be revealed.
How should I know, I’m a mystic not a fact-checker. That was the whole appeal to being a mystic. There was no homework, just thinking, which some people, Doug Tipple, think I need to decrease. Doug didn’t say in Quality or Quantity.
Both. Doug’s right. Don’t think. Feel. Inutit. Receive. Dilate your noumenon. Open your heart to the subliminally profound infra-low-frequency Bb pitch of the Universe. Accost flowers. Become a rock and taste the Earth.
Oooh, you’re right. How could I forget. I need to “feel” things. I work in a predominantly women’s field too. Facts aren’t the trump suit. A person can be wrong about the facts but a person can never be wrong about what they “feel”.
I feel like Andrew Zimmerman isn’t entirely open about Miracle Whip.
Naw, I can’t go with the feelings thing. Sounds kind of whoosie.
I’m not a drum circle kind of mystic. I’m more a solitary man on top the mountain kind of mystic. Only the mountain is a metaphor for my backyard pool. No splashing.
There is undoubtedly some mystical significance in your assigning this guy an m and an a that did not previously exist in his name. Yes. flip those letters around and you get “am” which could be the simplest description of a meditative condition. Or it could mean you should do a radio show. In the morning.
I feel like I should aspire to cult leader status because an AM radio talk show isn’t going to work for me. I’m not safe to talk to before 10am. I’ll cut you.
Well spotted, Emm, but you’re missing the obvious. “Ze Muzzer. Ve often look to ze Muzzer.” Mute has developed an Oedipal fixation upon Andrew Zimmern, possible due to his close association (a) with food, and (b) with tolerating unpleasantness. The fact that he is the wrong gender is a mere technicality and explained by Mute’s general inattention to detail. And possibly his mystic haze. (Mute’s, not Andrew Zimmern’s.)
Until you need to call Andrew Zimm_ern_. You would so not have gotten ahold of him doing it your way. And then where would you be? Right. Without a haggis. So much for gratitiude.
Did you, really? I’m unconvinced. Or did IB, really? I’m unconvinced. Oh, pardon me. I’m niggling over details, such as like that of hoping you might try being just a bit more clear. Terribly unmystical of me, I know.
How is that even possible? Oh, right: that would have been IB doing the overlooking, I’m betting. See above. Well, you carry on about Miracle Whip and how you don’t touch the stuff, so frankly the concept of you keeping your options open never even had a chance to get out of the starting gate, and then what do you do? You wave your “But I gots options!” flag. Look, buster: you can’t have your blood cake and eat it too.