Well, my Passover Sedar plans may have just been ruined.

Me: So Dad, let me just go through my menu so I know you like what I making.

Dad: I’m not picky. I’ll eat anything.

Me: Okay, so you’d eat Vegetable Matzah lasagna?

Dad: No, I don’t eat vegetables.

Me: You don’t eat vegetables? Any? I thought you said you weren’t picky.

Dad: No, they hurt my stomach.

Me: Well, that’s a problem because I’m planning on making a vegetarian meal.

Dad: Wait, no meat?


How to fix this? Dad won’t eat vegetables, I don’t eat meat, Chris doesn’t eat most fish, and I am insisting upon making my lasagna because it is awesome and once my father tastes it, I think he’ll like it. Also, I have no clue or interest in how to cook meat, and would probably poison everyone at the table if I tried to make it.

Suggestions oh so welcomed.

7 responses to “Doh!

  1. haha hilarious! I’m not sure what that leaves… carbs?

  2. Happy Passover! Is that a term? I hope so. I should know since I grew up in South Florida and have a lot of friends who celebrate….hmm.

    This cracked me up–a loaf of bread may be your meal? Can you do just a cheese lasagne?

  3. But most carbs are off limits for Passover! No bread, rice, pasta, etc. I think we are compromising by having him bring his own chicken.

  4. Sounds exactly like my father–exactly! Just serve what you want without sayin it’s vegetables, etc. When he tastes, because he’s hungry after the story of Passover, he’ll enjoy and forget about what he’s used to! As long as it tastes good and fills him up, he’ll be happy and proud of you.

  5. Both my mother and father would say that vegetables gave them gas. Actually it was probably not chewing them enough. Mention ahead of time the new concept of chewing longer to activate digestive juices (and enzymes). Say you’re trying it, and why don’t we all try it at Seder. Either that or slip your dad some Beano.

    My dad would say he hated the taste of vegetables and always left them untouched. Must have been what his mother served when he was young. If my father had no choice, he’d eat them and say how good they tasted.

  6. Pingback: Playing Hostess | Big City, Baby Carrots

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