Being a connoisseur of the cuisine extraordinaire from time immemorial, I have always been a food snob of sorts. The taste buds do overtime every time, picking faults as easily as plucking flowers. I have driven some of the best chefs in the business to despair by finding faults in their creation.
I must admit that there are some chefs who have banned me from their establishments. This is because I do the ‘raised eyebrow and cutting look’ to perfection and blessed with a loud voice, I can carry across the largest banquet halls without problems.
But why am gloating about my taste buds at this juncture? That is because I do have a small weakness. It is never easy for a man of my stature and bearing to admit that there is a dark spot somewhere which refuses to go away. I have perfected the art of being a snob and to confess this has taken a lot of courage.
I had to fortify myself with plenty of that Scottish drink before this confession. To put it simply – I am a perennial but secret nail-biter. It happens at home, in the washroom or any moment when I find myself alone.
I have often avoided this habit in public with great difficulty. But once in private, the nail biting begins in earnest. I often wondered why I bite my nails. Let me put this simply and honestly. I like the taste of nails and chewing on them gives me the greatest pleasure.
I feel that the nail is the best thing there is. That woody feeling and that rather distinct taste, is to put it simply, just divine.
I must also confess that I have enjoyed it even better when there was bit of dirt on it! Now don’t shake your head or look at me with raised eyebrows.
Don’t you have your salad with a dressing or your meal with accompaniments?
So what’s a little bit of dirt then? If you feel repulsive, please recall the days when you were a young nipper and feasted on all the dirt around the house or outside.
That was enjoyable, wasn’t it? And remember, stripped of all our humanity we are still savages. We were brutes who ate anything that came by our way. That brutish behaviour has continued down the centuries and there are men who still drink blood, have haggis and devour snakes with supreme pleasure.
Back in the old days, we probably garnished our food with a dash of dirt. And am sure our ancestors did not know that water could be used to wash off the dirt.
I rest my case. I enjoy that dirt with the fingernail. I call it the saleté de ongle and I love it.
I am now shortly going out with another foodie friend of mine who also loves to chew the nail and we will discuss the merits of saleté de ongle along with the Tandoori Prawns and Grilled Chicken in Hot Garlic Sauce.
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