Oops, I Did It Again!

Despite my good intentions, I floated right out of Blogville at the end of last week.  I'm not exactly sure how to float back in so I guess I'll pick up where I left off...

...which was heading out to make at least one adventure a day while my daughter was home.  You see, when you think about it, you don't really take adventures. You make them. That's the way it rolls around here anyway. When you live in East Podunk with very few obvious options, you just have to make an adventure out of an otherwise ordinary day.

It really boils down to trying something new.

For our first adventure, we tried a new coffee shop.  For our second, we had lunch at a new restaurant. We even tried a whole new menu item at this whole new restaurant. I'm happy to report that I am a new member of the lettuce wrap fan club.

Then, we decided to try a whole new food.

OK...

I probably should stop right here and point out the obvious: My adventures tend to run heavily on the edible side. I'm sort of a culinary adventurer.  Miss Whimsy, on the other hand, is not.  She inherited the Mikey gene from her father, a man who would gladly subsist on candy corn and nachos if I let him.

source

This week was dubbed adventure week, however,

 so she sucked it up, and Mikey left town.

Trying a new food is not the same as trying a new recipe. Around here, we just call that cooking.  I'm talking about trying a food item that you have never tasted before. That's an adventure.  We took a little field trip to the grocery store to find something new.

It's amazing what you can find if you look.

Yeah... no. 

We passed on the chicken feet.

I'm not even sure how one goes about eating food that needs a pedicure.
 I just took this picture because I'm a blogger.     

We passed on all sorts random body parts and settled on turnips instead. Now, this might not be an adventure to you, but it was to us. You see, the Duchess is a legendary turnip hater. She inherited it from my grandmother, the Queen Mother of all turnip haters. In Grama's world, turnips hovered just below "the dope"  on the  Just Say No  list. It's a generational stronghold that Mikey  was more than happy to pass down to the next generation.

Are you following me here?

Not long ago, the Farm Sister was given the gift of fresh turnips by someone too ignorant to know better and felt that it was a good time to break the cycle. She fixed them for lunch, and then she made a beeline to the phone to herald the good news. Behold! Turnips are delicious!  Even better than a potato!  

After which, she apparently headed outside
to hang those pants on fire off the telephone wire. 

I am almost positive I got punked.

I fixed them exactly the way she told me, and I am here to report that they are not better than a potato.  They are only slightly better than a carrot, and carrots make me vomit.  I consider it a great victory that we kept down two bites before giving them a ceremonial burial.  Good thing I didn't serve chicken feet to go with them or we would have starved to death... which would have been preferable to a third bite of those noxious nonpotatoes.

Blech. Pooey.

I shall remain solidly on Team Duchess in the Great Turnip Debate.
Just say no, folks. 
Just. Say. No. 

So why am I wasting a blog post on them?  Because I never would have known if I hadn't tried,  that's why. 

Plus, we laughed.  

The laughing is what made it an adventure.

We had several other adventures during the week as well, but this post has gotten too long already. Friday we adventured all day in downtown Savannah.  I'll try to get to that later in the week, but for today I'll just close with this:

Not all roads named South Fork have oil wells and Ewings on them. 

Sometimes, a dirt road is just a  dumb old dirt road.

But  how in the world will you know if you never take an intentional turn
and get out of your rut?

So that's all for me. 

How about you?

What adventure, culinary or otherwise, have you taken lately? 

And where do you stand on the Great Turnip Debate?