They say that as you grow older you lose many things. One of the things that both of my grandmothers seems to have lost is their sense of taste, and I don't mean stylistically (although there are a lot of people who seem to lose that too).
When it comes to food, Boonie is a very picky eater, and Grams is not. (At least she usually isn't.) And they both love Chef Boyardee which I think is just nasty.
But tonight we learned that Grams cannot even tell the difference between chicken and pork roast.
Today was one of those days where I actually thought ahead and put a pork roast in the slow cooker.
As we were finishing up supper tonight, Grams looked at the pork roast and told me that I should make chicken salad out of it.
Now I don't know about you, but I can tell a definite difference between pork roast and chicken in look, texture and taste.
So I looked at her and told her that I didn't think that it would be possible for me to make chicken salad from the roast since it was pork and not chicken.
Her suggestion: "Make pork salad." (No, pork salad here. We're having pulled pork sandwiches later this week.)
Dad's comment: "If you can make chicken salad from a pork roast, I bet you could make a lot of money."
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