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This is my blog, and it is dangerous. Do you think I want to die like this?





Monday, October 25, 2010

Something's Rotten in Denmark?

Maybe if my kitchen's in Denmark.  I haven't seen any Vikings or Lutheran churches attempting to form ... it's a really small kitchen but I suppose just about anything is possible.

I'll explain.

Yesterday, I decided to have a cheese and pickle sandwich on rye bread for lunch.  I got a plate and everything I needed from the fridge, then set it all on the counter.  I opened the rye bread first, because that's logical and I really try to be logical when assembling sandwiches - to avoid pickle mishaps, mostly.  The rye bread was being stored in a big ziplock bag and had been in our kitchen for at most eight days, three of which had been inside the fridge. 

I pulled out two slices.  They didn't smell quite right.  But I don't trust my nose, for obvious reasons so I went ahead and made the sandwich.  Still ... the bread just smelled wrong.  I looked at the rest of the loaf.  It looked okay - not moldy or anything.  I've had rye bread sitting around for longer in my kitchen - at worst it gets too dried out to be palatable.  I sniffed again.  It wasn't even that typical breadly smell - kinda yeasty, like wine.  What the hell. 

Whatever.  I can't be sure something is really wrong until my husband comes home and I make him smell it, so I decided to go ahead and eat it.  I got to the second bite, and just ... couldn't.  The smell was way too strong, and too strange, even if it was a side effect of my medication.  I threw it away, and ate nachos and broccoli instead.  Not together - the broccoli legitimized melted cheddar on tortilla chips as a meal.

When my husband came home, he opened the bag and got smacked in the face by the smell.  It was open for mere seconds and I smelled it from four feet away.  The realization hit me that I had eaten two bites of that bread.  What also hit me is that the smell reminded me of that time a friend and I mixed every liquid we could find in her parents house into a dixie cup.  We were lucky we didn't choke on the fumes, it was pretty disgusting.

So I guess now all I have to do is figure out which one of my children is trying to poison me, and where they're hiding the dixie cup.  Why don't I think it's my husband?  If he was going to do it, he would have done it a long time ago.  The kids have long since sapped his energy to plot.
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7 comments:

Madeline Hammersmark said...

And if he was tying to poison you, he wouldn't have smelled the bread for you.


LOL, what kills me is that he smells things for you.

I ask my boyfriend to smell things for me, but his allergies are always so bad that he couldn't smell anything anyway!!

Unknown said...

He has allergies, too. Like I said, he HAS to be my nose now that I can't trust mine thanks to the meds. But the bread - it was a powerful smell ... trust me, your man would have been able to detect it.

Madeline Hammersmark said...

Maybe you should send it to a lab and find out what it was.

That's very bizarre that it had such a strong smell, yet no visible signs of going bad.

E. Studnicka said...

I remember when I tried to make a homemade bread starter out of flour and water. After a few days it stank to high heaven. Maybe the bread got damp somehow and then counteracted the sogginess by getting stale, therefore simulating the illusion of a normal bready texture while maintaining a rancid odor as the moisture penetrated and over-ripened the flour...
I'm just making stuff up, but hey, it could happen.

Unknown said...

That's too complicated. My kids are trying to poison me, okay?

Unknown said...

Ooh, Hammersmark - first of all, I didn't keep the bread, that's insane, even for a German. Secondly, do you think dad would have eaten it anyway?

Madeline Hammersmark said...

I KNOW dad would have eaten it anyway.

He would have plugged his nose, smothered it in mayonnaise and choked it down.