One of the first things we learn as kids is that lying is bad and we should never do it. Then, sooner or later, we learn that there are certain situations where lying is necessary to protect someone from feeling bad. That happens to be the case for the people down below, who shared on Reddit the time they had to lie to be polite.
In this instance, it relates to food, or what some people consider food and others consider hot garbage. Whether it be mistaking one ingredient for another, eating what is considered a delicacy in another country, or someone just having no clue what they are doing in the kitchen, these brave souls kept their mouth shut and powered through out of politeness. Proceed with caution if you have a weak stomach, as the following stories consist of meals that can make you gag just by reading them!
1. Banana Kept Secret￼
For a friend of mine it was bananas. He used to come hang out in the morning or stay the night to play games when we were growing up, and he ate breakfast with us a lot. My parents loved having bananas with breakfast on the weekend—and banana pancakes for that matter—so he’d have them all the time. It was probably about five years into our friendship before I found out the truth: he absolutely hates bananas and was only eating them to be polite.
2. By Special You Mean Terrible
My husband’s mom made a lemon pie, but it was a “special recipe” she learned from her friend. I thought, cool we’re getting some gourmet tonight! I was so, so wrong. The “special recipe” was this horrible diet monstrosity. There was no sugar and the crust was made of saltine crackers. I don’t even have words for how sour and salty it was. But you best believe I ate it, as it was “delicious.”
3. Keep Your Mouth Shut
My aunt and uncle invited us over for a BBQ. Hot dogs, steaks, and hamburgers, which all looked delicious. My uncle goes out and starts cooking this delicious feast and then the great British Summer weather appeared. He closed the lid of the grill and ran inside. It rained for about 10 minutes. The rain ends, he goes to the grill and by this time everything is burned to a crisp. He serves it anyway.
My dad gives me a look that suggests that if I say anything about the food it would be the last utterance I ever made. We eat, or rather chew, the remains of the meat and made polite conversation. Nobody mentions how disgusting it is. There was much mirth after we left the house, and we’ve never been invited for a BBQ again.
4. Drowning the Taste
I was working in China and they had a big celebratory banquet for us. They served a local delicacy. It made my skin crawl. It was sea worms. It was a white tube that, when immersed in near-freezing water, essentially dissolved into a gelatinous lump. Think fish-flavored jell-o, with just a hint of residual gristle. Ugh. I had to eat several servings while downing shots of maotai.
5. Hot Date
A girl I dated was trying to impress me, so she tried to make green curry. She added too much curry paste and we both sat there sweating and crying.
6. A Cup-le Mistakes
My girlfriend in college wanted to do something nice for my roommate and me because she often ate at our apartment, so she cooked dinner one night. Teriyaki steak. Somewhere along the line, she got tablespoon and cup mixed up and made a terrible mistake. She added three quarters of a cup of salt. Pretty sure we were nearing the LD50 of salt for a human, but I ate as much as I could and drank as much water as I could for the next few days.
7. Cookies From Hell
My beloved but very elderly grandma-in-law made chocolate chip cookies, in which she messed up the sugar and salt AND mistook the dried black beans in her cupboard for chocolate chips. Ohhhhh dear.
8. Mom’s Got Jokes
I came home from school one day and was hungry so I told my mother and she told me there were blueberry muffins. I took one but when I took a bite it was the driest, most flavorless thing I’ve ever eaten. So, as to not upset my mother, I ate it and when I came back my mom was laughing. I asked what was funny and she revealed the truth. Apparently, her friend made the muffins. My brother had spit it out when he tried one. So basically I got pranked by my mom.
9. Don’t Be Chicken and Speak up
I was visiting Guatemala, and this old lady invited us to dinner. In this country, it’s extremely rude to not eat what is placed before you. Unfortunately, this lady served us a vegetable soup with some meat in it that tasted like chicken broth from hell. She didn’t eat with us, as she was being polite or something. She didn’t even talk to us during the dinner.
We took a taste and nearly wanted to puke. However, due to the country’s customs, we decided to eat it. We could barely get through it. We ate about half of it and then mentioned we were just full. We both retched later on that night. It was so nasty! I ran into the lady later in the week walking down the street, and she apologized to us. Apparently, the chicken was rotten and she only took one bite. She then chastised us for not telling her.
Sometimes it’s frustrating not knowing all the ins and outs of different customs!
10. Not As Advertised
A few months ago, my next door neighbor knocked on our door and asked us if we wanted to go around for coffee the following afternoon. We were fairly new to the area, so it was a nice gesture. She said to arrive at 5 PM, so obviously we were expecting coffee and a chat—as advertised!—and then to leave in about an hour or so. But when we turned up, she was in the middle of cooking a full-blown meal and we were greeted with, “dinner is almost ready!”
Not to sound ungrateful, but we don’t usually eat dinner at 5:20 PM and we hadn’t prepared to stay there for very long—certainly not a whole evening. But what do you say when you’re standing in someone’s house and they are making you food? It was awkward, but technically a nice gesture, so we couldn’t really feel pissed about it.
The food was—not great. My wife has an intolerance to onions, which the host would have had no way of knowing but we would definitely have shared this information if we knew we were staying for dinner. There were onions in everything, and couldn’t easily been picked out. And there was no alternative, so saying anything at this point would have been pretty crushing for the host. I just sat and watched my poor wife gingerly eat food she knew would make her feel uncomfortable all night out of pure politeness.
11. All for Nothing
On the first date I went on with my now fiancée, she brought me to her friend’s house for dinner. My fiancée knew that I absolutely loathed everything about mushrooms because we’d talked about it more than once. I wanted to make a good impression with her friend though, so I promised myself that no matter what she served, I’d eat it. They were both on a Whole30 diet, so it was possible that something they served wouldn’t be—normal.
She ended up serving hamburgers, but because they couldn’t eat wheat products, they didn’t have buns. Instead, her friend had baked portobello mushrooms several hours earlier. They couldn’t be too hot because the friend had a four-year-old son who wouldn’t eat anything that was “too hot”, which also meant there was no difference between physical heat and spiciness.
Bite by bite, I forced myself to chew and swallow what felt like moldy artichoke leaves. They were too tough on the tops to be able to chomp through them with my teeth, and they were too cold and squishy on the bottoms to either stay burger-like or not slop onto the plate. With every bite, I struggled not to throw up. After she laughed about it for a little while, I told her that I had choked it down so her friend would like me and think the best of her, which she thought was so funny that she texted it to her friend, thus defeating the point of going through it in the first place.
12. The Mystery of the Awful Cake
My aunt made chocolate cake for Christmas eve dinner one year and I honestly have no idea what she mixed up—salt instead of sugar? Accidentally dumped an entire container of baking powder in it? Regardless, it was the worst thing I’ve ever eaten. We all sat there eating this cake and pretending to like it. Like, all 12 of us. Everyone aside from my aunt, who didn’t have any.
So anyway, later on that night she decides to have a piece and she gags on the first bite, spits it out, and yells, “Oh my god, what is wrong with this cake???” We’re all kind of looking around but no one wants to be the first to say something. Finally, my six-year-old niece revealed the truth. It was awesome. She said, “the cake was gross but mom told me not to say anything.” We all start cracking up, including my aunt. She was like, “I can’t believe you guys willingly ate this!”
We never did figure out how she messed it up, but we still talk about it like 20 years later. How we all ate this cake that tasted like manure because we were too polite to let on how awful it was.
13. You Call That Miso? THIS Is Miso
My husband’s grandma made us a “miso soup” that was almost black from all the teriyaki and soy sauce in it. All of the vegetables in it were slimy and overcooked. It so barely resembled miso that the next day I made some regular miso for myself and she was offended that I didn’t eat the “perfectly good” leftovers. I was all confused until my husband whispered to me that she thought the abomination she served us was miso soup.
14. There Are Worse Things in Life
My grandpa made sushi with tuna, rhubarb, yellow mustard, seaweed, and undercooked rice. He watched me eat it to make sure I got a taste of each ingredient. The entire time I ate it I thought, “this tough son of a gun made it through the beaches of Normandy, eat the sushi and smile”.
15. Should’ve Saw That Coming
I went to Kenya on a college trip. For the first week we were there we built a kitchen into a school. Every day my buddy and I would joke about this goat at the school and how big its private parts were. Well, fast forward to the last day we were there. The school put on a feast and we ate corn, beans and kale—grown at the school—with goat meat.
The local elders came by at the end to show their appreciation. My teacher—who was from Kenya—got up and said, “the elders have prepared a delicacy, it is somewhat of an insult to not eat what they present you.” Bam, here comes the karma bus. Now I enjoy fried Rocky Mountain oysters, however, what they served was a barely boiled goat ball. I tore off a sizable chunk like a champ, and I will NEVER forget the rubbery texture, or the ultra gamy taste, but I ate it like I was honored for even being offered.
16. So Hot It Hurts
My family was very strict about wasting food. My dad was the type to say things like, “If you vomit, I will make you eat it”, especially when we thought food was too gross to eat like boiled spinach. On my mom’s side, my grandfather said things like, “if you drop your food on the floor, I’ll pick it up and you’ll eat it anyway.” My grandmother was the type to clean super thoroughly, but they were legit migrant farmers so wasting food was super taboo.
One day, when I was 13 years old, my friend invited me over for dinner at his place. His mom was an amazing cook, and 15 years later, she’s still the only woman who can cook me fish that I will happily eat. So, I’m 100% down for dinner. We get there and she’s got the dinner table COVERED, end to end, in fresh ingredients. She’s chopping and cooking away like a kitchen monster. I’m excited. Two or three hours go by and the food is ready.
We go over and grab bowls and we sit down. I take my first bite and immediately my mouth is ablaze with Cantonese fire. My friend looks at me and says, “is it too spicy?” Choking a little and starting to sweat, I shake my head. I NEED to finish this bowl. I get three bites in and I’m breaking already. I get up and grab a glass of water and try again, and again, and again. Halfway through the bowl, my eyes are streaming and his mom takes me to her room and starts holding me while I sob—full bodied racking sobs.
She pet my hair and started singing to me softly till I settled down. She was always super strict with everybody but this little moment just kind of broke my heart. Eventually, she helped me get it together and told me it was OK if I didn’t finish my food, as she wouldn’t tell anybody and whatnot. She was always super kind to me after that, and I felt kind of bad about visiting when she’d be strict with my friend but not me. To this day, she still holds a special admiration in my heart and I still miss seeing her.
17. Random Concoction
In Arequipa, Peru, I drank a blended mixture consisting of molasses, stout beer, raw eggs, some vegetables, and a mystery ingredient that I later discovered was frog skin. Yes, the skin of a frog. It’s a symbol for healthy fertility I guess, and the tour guide insisted we try it.
18. They’re Just Not Good
Chitlins—or chitterlings. My husband begged me to try it. It’s his favorite dish. I tried a small bite. It tasted like straight poop—straight fermented poop. I told my friend about my experience and she insisted it just wasn’t prepared right and I needed to try hers. I went to her house and saw that she prepares hers with green peppers and onions. I was reluctant but hopeful. I took a bite. It tasted like straight fermented poop with a side of green peppers and onions. I was nice and I took TWO bites but I couldn’t stomach anymore.
19. Pun Intended
Sea snails with my Vietnamese friend. I paid for it when I tried to pull it out with my teeth instead of using the little toothpick. Since it is in a spiral inside the shell, it snapped out of the shell and sprung forth, bouncing off my face and onto the table, leaving my face covered in fishy smelling, briny sea water. I would have run straight to the bathroom, but I was temporarily brineded.
20. Greek by Name Only
An undercooked potato, garlic, feta, and chopped meat packaged in aluminum foil. It was supposed to be a Greek dish. We all got sick.
21. Careful What You Wish For
Back in the late 1970s, I was sent from California to a rural Maryland town for a six month job assignment. I was used to the wide variety of very fresh vegetables grown within a couple of hours of my city. In that rural Maryland town, I rarely saw what I would consider good fresh vegetables, except for a very short season when farmers markets had local produce. I really missed my good veggies.
I rented part of a house that had been converted to apartments. The nice elderly couple next door had a huge vegetable garden, consisting primarily of green beans. I used to lust after those beans. One day, Mrs. Neighbor saw me outside and invited me to join them later in the day for a barbecue. “We are going to have the first of our own green beans.” I could hardly wait. I was so looking forward to those beans.
Mr. Neighbor barbecued and Mrs. Neighbor plated the food in the kitchen. With great pride, she handed me a plate containing an incinerated steak and a bunch of gray tubes. Her words nearly made me rage-cry: “We like our green beans best after they’ve been canned.” Yep. She had home-canned the green beans, then cooked them—Southern style—for a hour or so with a chunk of ham. I looked at my plate. I looked over at all those crisp, vibrant beans still on the plants. I looked back at my plate.
I never knew I possessed such amazing acting abilities.
22. Mom Bites Her Tongue
When I was around eight, I decided I wanted my mom to relax while I cooked her dinner and did the dishes. I made way over cooked spaghetti with a plain can of diced tomatoes that I added water to because I thought that is how sauce worked. I finished it off with every seasoning herb we owned plus some ketchup because the sauce looked a little too much like water and oh, heck some mustard, mayo and any sauce I saw in the fridge because she liked all those things!
My mom took her first bite, smiled through it, told me how much she enjoyed not having to cook, then ate every freaking bite on her plate. She told me much later on that she ate the dinner I made her because she didn’t want to discourage me from taking initiative and trying new things. She also later told me it was the most god awful thing she had ever eaten in her life.
23. Tastes Like It Smells
Durian my coworker brought in. I mean I was curious so it wasn’t just politeness. I’d heard it smelled like a sewer but was absolutely delicious. In reality, it just smelled pretty bad and tasted pretty bad as well. But that’s not even the worst part. Every burp brought fresh waves of regret.
24. Forced Fed Foul Food
One time, I volunteered to deliver a prescription after work to this old man because he lived in the building beside mine. He answered the door with “oh good, you’re here” and ushered me to a table where another reluctant dinner guest appeared to be held hostage as well. He forced us to ingest all of the cold, sweet yellow rice and vile tasting yoghurt he could slop on our plates and would not leave us alone until our plates were clean. I tried to use every excuse in the book, but he kept saying that in his culture it’s rude not to completely finish your plate, etc. etc.
He kept saying it was such a delicacy and blah blah and I appreciate that in his culture it might be, but I kind of felt violated to be forced to eat something, let alone seeing the giant Tupperware it was scooped out of, not knowing when the hell it was made and by whom.
25. Mixing Things up
My grandma boiled chicken in ketchup once. She also had pickled watermelon for a side that day. Not one of my favorite things I’ve ever eaten.
26. Pushed to the Limit
I know this is a horrible thing to say but because I was beaten into eating my food as a child, I can eat pretty much anything no matter how much I don’t like it. But my in-laws’ awful Thanksgiving dinners took me to the limit. I quit going to their Thanksgivings because of how nasty they were. And for me to say that, it means the food was NASTY. Not one of them knows how to cook and I think they subsist entirely on cheap microwave dinners.
They got a pre-cooked turkey and dried it out further in the oven. That wasn’t too bad. Super generic mac and cheese in a box made the night before, stuck in the microwave and heated to lukewarmness. I could live with that. Instant mashed potatoes that had the consistency of grit. Okay, I’ll choke it down. Then we have the cornbread dressing, which was like they just took cornmeal and made it into a paste with water and heated it up. I loathe it, but I can still do a bite or two.
But the crowning glory of nastiness was granny’s famous trademark casserole: some concoction of asparagus, boiled eggs, crushed cornflakes and god knows what else. It looked like green vomit covered with boiled egg slices and it stank. To make all this stuff ten times worse, the pervasive stench of raw sewage permeates the house from their unpumped septic tank that leaks into the yard. It still smelled better than the boiled egg and asparagus horror, though.
I can’t do it anymore. These people burned out my ability to eat nasty food with a smile.
27. Overcooked Would Be an Understatement
First, my mother likes ham, or at least what was sold in the store as ham. Seriously, if she has people coming over, she’ll cook the ham—yes, those pre-cooked ones—in the oven for three hours the night before. On the morning of the day of the planned meal, she’ll heat it in the oven for a couple more hours. Then, two hours before the meal, she’ll start heating it again before putting it on a plate. When it time to serve dinner, the plate of ham is heated in the microwave for 20 minutes. It is the driest, most tasteless waste of ham you could ever imagine.
Best evidence I can give though is my younger brother and I went away to college, so we ate in a college cafeteria. My brother and I were shocked at all the complaints of the food. We thought it was the best food ever.
28. Got Their Hopes up for Nothing
In the fourth grade, I had a sleepover at my best friend’s house. I was excited because her mom was a high power attorney and was going to cook a fancy dinner for us. Her mom was so glamorous. Well, it came time to dig into the pasta with tomato sauce but it wouldn’t go down my throat. I’m pretty sure she mixed up the salt with sugar and my 10-year-old body was not going to let it go down. I’m pretty sure I really hurt her feelings but I told her I had eaten right before I was dropped off at their house. I’m 32 and I still remember that taste.
29. Not a Fan
My Norwegian friend was really excited for me to try lutefisk, and I hadn’t the heart to just spit it straight back out because holy, it’s freaking disgusting.
30. Stick to Sober Shrimp
Drunken shrimp. I was living in China and out with the local teachers. They ordered this dish and I was picturing something totally different. What arrived was a bowl of tiny live shrimp in a clear liquid, which is bad enough, but the story behind the dish is even worse. Turns out the shrimp are put in a bowl of alcohol and drink themselves to death, at which point you eat them.
It takes a little while for them to die. I remember one of the ladies lifting the lid and a shrimp tried to jump out. She said, “not ready yet!” and put the lid back on. Once all the shrimp were dead, the bowl was passed around like a plate of fries. I didn’t want to be rude so I tried one but one was enough to last me a lifetime.
31. Scarred for Life
My aunt’s mother-effing broccoli casserole that my mom made me take a bite of every thanksgiving. I don’t know how exactly she concocted this thick, pasty casserole that smelled and tasted like a noxious cabbage fart but my god I can still think of the taste and gag and we haven’t done thanksgiving at her place in well over 12 years now.
32. Enough to Kill a Vampire
A very garlicky carbonara. My sister’s boyfriend offered to make a carbonara for our family and we accepted, as we had heard good things about his cooking from my sister. He bought the pre-chopped garlic that comes in a container where they are separated into portions, kind of in a grid set up of mini one portion garlic all connected. There’s about 30 per pack minimum.
Now, I am not adverse to garlic, in fact, I myself often put in more than the recommended when I cook, but holy—this was bad. It didn’t take long to figure out what had happened: he had used all 30 portions of garlic to make a carbonara for eight people. He had also used a certain kind of “matured” cheese, which gave everything a nasty after taste. Overall, we haven’t let him cook food for us again but he doesn’t know why.
33. Made With Love
I was doing my practical portion for paramedic school and my mom—who at the time had stage four lung cancer—would stay up every night to cook me dinner for when I got home. She made pasta, which, while usually very good—she was Italian—included sugar instead of salt. It was honestly inedible. Truth be told, though, I’d eat it every single day if she was still here.
34. Once Was Enough
I don’t remember the name of it but they were these white bean looking things about the size of my thumb in a soup. They had the texture of chewing carpet. Actual carpet, mind you, that’s not a euphemism. Anyways, it took me about an hour to finish three quarters of the bowl. I ended up giving up because I couldn’t stop gagging. I felt bad because my friend’s grandma made it and I was at their place for dinner, but luckily for me, they were appreciative of the fact that I actually tried to finish it rather than be offended that I didn’t like it. I made a point to not be around during dinner hours anymore, though.
35. There’s Such Thing As Being Overly Proud
I have two older sisters. When the elder of them decided that she wanted to cook a meal for the family, it was a big deal. She decided to make chilli, and she used my mom’s big red Betty Crocker Cookbook—or similar, but one of those generic cookbooks most families have—for the recipe. At one point it calls for a whole heap of chilli powder, and this is where things went terribly wrong.
She used the chilli powder from our kitchen drawer. Seems fair, right? Except my dad is Pakistani and it was some sort of incredibly intense chillies or something like that. Bear in mind that at this point I was, like, eight or younger, so my grasp of the details was minimal. All I knew was that you couldn’t even go near the pot. Breathing the air in the kitchen was an experience.
The entire family just tapped out. Nice try, but let’s order a pizza and you can give it a go again next week—except for my dad. He was determined that since his daughter had cooked dinner he was going to EAT THAT DINNER. He ate it. He ate the WHOLE POT. By the end, his face was Crayola Fire Engine Red and there was sweat pouring off of him.
We would ask if he was okay, and he would croak out, “Yes. It’s very good,” in a tone which implied he was fighting for each moment of survival. I don’t even want to consider what his gut was like for the rest of that week. But his daughter cooked him dinner and he ATE. THE. WHOLE. POT.
36. Google at Your Own Risk
Balut—look it up. My grandmother was 100% Filipino. One bite. One gag.
37. It Won’t Kill You
Several years ago, I visited my partner’s grandmother in a small town in Missouri. Part of our visit was going to the grandmother’s sister’s house in the next town over. They were very kind people, but at lunch, there was Jell-O salad that had mysterious white fibres in it. I suspected it was something like cottonwood, or some other airborne fluff that just happened to get in the gelatin.
I quickly realized that it was harmless, it didn’t taste like anything, and that I should just politely pick it out of my mouth when people weren’t looking.
38. Missing a Plate
I was in India and was presented with this incredible pile of food on a palm leaf. There were no knives or forks, and someone told me to “just use your fingers, like it’s a tortilla”. So, I assumed you wrapped up the food like a tortilla and ate the whole thing, leaf included. Um, nope. He meant just eat with your fingers. Not like a tortilla. I fully ate a plate.
39. More Stubborn Than Polite
One time when I was a kid I was served chocolate milk that had salt instead of sugar from my mom. I didn’t know what was wrong with the chocolate milk myself, I just knew it tasted awful and I didn’t want to bother my mom, who was cleaning the dishes right in front of me. I just kept drinking it until my mom realized I was near vomiting after a sip and tasted it herself. That’s when she tasted the “sugar” and realized what was wrong with it.
She was so puzzled as to why I didn’t tell her anything. Looking back, so am I.
40. Worth a Snot
While I was waiting for my apartment to open up, I stayed at an onsen for a few days in Japan. The owner was a really cool dude and during dinner he’d often come chat with me and find out what foods I liked. One morning, he came to my table and said, “I want to watch you eat natto” as he slapped the white styrofoam cup next to my food. I knew I’d hate it because I knew what it was, but since we were buds at this point I figured I’d just go for it. Maybe I’d like it?
Nope. I stirred it, added in all the sauces, and then took a bite. I was immediately struggling to both swallow it as well as get all the natto snot off my chin. The owner almost cried from laughing so hard. He gave me a free beer later, so it was all worth it. My girlfriend still tries to push it on me during breakfast. No thank you.
41. Check the Expiration Date
My wife and I spent a couple thanksgivings in a row with her parents when we were still dating. Her entire family is vegetarian, so her mom cooks “Tofurkey”, which isn’t the worst by itself—imagine a really dry pork loin—just smother it in some gravy and it’s edible. But the second year we went back, she pulled the Tofurkey out of the freezer and informed us how excited she was to finally get to finish it off.
I nearly screamed. It was the leftover Tofurkey from the previous year.
42. Sweet Chilli No Heat
My grandmother is a terrible, terrible cook. I’ve gotten food poisoning multiple times from her but this chilli took it to the next level. One bowl of this thing nearly killed me. She made it in her crockpot. I lived with my grandparents, my younger sister and our mom at the time, my mom was out of town. The first night the chilli was good. Everything was fine. She made a huge batch so we had it again the next day. It was still okay, a little bit off but not the worst thing I ever ate. I had no clue what I was in for.
I was so sick that night. Spewing from both ends. The third night the smell was horrible, the chilli was popping and effervescence with tiny gas bubbles. I was nine and we had just learned about bacteria in school. I refused to eat more than a bite. It was pop rocks mixed with rotten meat. I asked her how she stored the chilli. In the crockpot, she said defensively. “It’s okay to leave things in there, I even remembered to unplug it!” We lived in Georgia—it was the summer. She didn’t make chilli, she made a science experiment on the kitchen counter.
43. It’s Supposed to Look Like That
My sister was trying to be nice after I had taken care of her for three years while she dealt with her mental health. She tried to make me a pizza. It came out more like charcoal—like fully, all black. She tried so hard to make me happy for once that I had to at least get some of it down. “It’s not as burnt as it looks! Really yummy.” She was really happy with herself after that.
44. Getting Drunk Off Pudding
My grandma died right before Christmas. We all got together for the holiday and my aunt was, understandably, still taking it really hard. She had made something she called, “vanilla angel food pudding cake.” It was in a shallow casserole dish. The top layer was whipped cream and cookie crumble. Middle layer was vanilla pudding. Bottom layer was crumbled angel food cake, soaked to the top in a massive pool of bourbon. The cake was floating in the bourbon. We later found out she mixed even more bourbon into the pudding layer.
She didn’t tell anyone it was alcoholic, so we all got scoops assuming it was a syrup or something. My cousin was the first to bite into it and had to run to the trash can to vomit as soon as it got in her mouth. Another person got a forkful near their nose and freaked out and yelled in shock. Cue my aunt beginning to completely melt down about how she’s trying so hard and she got the recipe from a friend and it’s not THAT much alcohol and grandma was such a good cook she would’ve helped her etc., etc. She was like full blown about to lose it. There was no escape now.
Everyone else was sufficiently guilted into eating at least some of what they’d scooped onto their plates. That stuff was physically painful to eat. Everything burned. Looking around the table, you would’ve thought we were all downing spoonfuls of wasabi. I was 19, but I guess my parents were more worried about my aunt than me getting underage sloshed on pudding. However, about halfway through my portion they found a discreet way to dump my plate. The whole place reeked a couple minutes after we had dug into the “pudding” too, so it was this awful, inescapable sensory overload of bourbon.