One Bad Bite.

I know dude. It's over.

The other day I was eating a huge salad, one of those "you combine the ingredients and we'll chop em up for you" lunch favorites, when I got a bite of "tough" grilled chicken. You know the kind... sort of rubbery, chewy and generally ick? Mid-chew, only about 1/3 of the way through my salad, I had to spit the bite out (because I'm super mature like that) and afterwards the entire salad seemed suspicious to me. My stomach pretty much did a 180 and I went from really hungry to nauseated by the idea of ingesting another forkful. Lunch was officially over thanks to that one bad bite. 

About 45 minutes later, when the offending salad was long gone and my appetite had returned (as you might have guessed, I'm not the type of gal that can skip a meal without complaint!) I thought about how ridiculous it was that one bad bite had turned me off to what was likely an otherwise perfectly fine meal. But that's my thing.... an icky chicken bite, a visually unappealing "slimy" part of the turkey breast, if it looks weird or acts funny, I'm out. So food... bring me your tasty, your unusual and your adventurous, but leave your imperfections on the cutting board.