A Childhood Memoir of Culinary Delights.

As a child I was fascinated by the taste of paper. I would stash little tidbits of it, hiding it in various spots about the house, saving it for a delectable feast. My stockpiles were never comprised of any odd piece of paper picked off the table, no the paper connoisseur in me would ferret out what I presumed to be the crème de la crème of paper. Onion paper, transparent and tinged with the palest hint of pastel yellow, long sheets of white cottony stuff, virgin, unscathed delectable, but most of all construction paper, 2 mm thick, stiff, coloured construction paper. Red and blue were my favourites.

The feasts I would throw my self, nibbling at a corner of a sheet, savouring each bite. I can remember the texture, the euphoria of munching on something that I truly wasn’t supposed to eat. This obsession, if you wanted to call it that, only lasted for less then 6 months. Ice cream soon replaced my yen for paper and is still a favourite today.

As too why? Well, I think it was more the chomping on something ‘forbidden’ rather then the paper itself that drove me to this culinary experience. Or maybe it was just the texture of paper.

The big question is, as a child, what were you odd culinary habits?