The Joy of Cooked Food

Listen, I enjoy sushi as much as the next person. A high quality tuna tartar is a delectable treat. An egg white mixed into a foam that tops a cocktail can be delightful. I’m not terrified of raw food per se, but I have a healthy respect for what I know about my own body. I have a sensitive stomach. I look at something that’s slightly off and I’m sick for the night. I eat a few bites of a bad piece of salmon, for example, and I’m violently ill for days. My husband, on the other hand, has a stomach of steel. In fact, he ate most of that bad piece of salmon and felt fine! He eats anything. Sometimes even slightly outdated things. And he’s completely copacetic.

Case in point: while visiting the town of Chartre, in France, my husband decided to order Beef Carpaccio. What you see in the photo is what he received. I’m sorry but this is not just raw beef. This is a package of ground beef from the store with the packaging gently retrieved, leaving the meat it in it’s sale form. They used a spoon to push a little dent at the top and drop a raw egg in it. Sprinkle some herbs and onions et viola! Fancy Feast for a human.

“You’re not actually going to eat that.”

“Of course I am!”

I couldn’t look at him or the meat. I focused on my beet salad and glass of Sancerre, willing myself to keep swallowing without gagging. What kind of E. coli and Salmonella infections should I prepare myself for? We were headed to our one hotel for the whole trip, a fancy one I had purchased with saved points and we were excited to soak up the air conditioning, chilly pool, and refreshing wine. I could now only see a future of my husband confined to our room, at best, or a hospital, at worst.

As it turned out, he ate the whole thing, claimed it delicious, and had zero problems. We all know I would have been out the rest of the trip. Sigh. Raw food in moderation is what I am sticking to. Not a pound of cold ground beef with a raw egg on a plate. I stand by my choices. I feel like my life, and stomach, depend on it.