I made Cornish pasties this week for the very first time, and I fucking nailed it. The crust was perfect, and the filling was perfect, and the local grocery store even sells HP sauce (in its “ethnic foods” section, no less). So perfect. I had one cold for breakfast, which I thought as I ate it seemed a bad idea and the best idea all at once.

Pasties are the final dish of the three (British) meat dishes that I’ve now mastered. The other two: sausage rolls and shepherd’s pie. So I can say, with gritted teeth, that yes, I will eat lamb or pork or beef. I am not a picky eater! (Reader: I am.)

I should note here, I suppose, that I used ground beef in my pasties. I knew that I couldn’t handle eating steak. Too gristly. Too chewy. Too muscly. So yes, I will eat lamb or pork or beef, served in a traditional dish of my people, as long as that meat is ground.

I tried to cook a rack of lamb tonight. It’s my second attempt to do so. The first try came out of the oven virtually raw, and even though I extended the cooking time tonight well beyond what any recipe called for, they were still too rare for my taste. I threw the chops into a skillet and gave them a quick sear, and that seemed to do the trick. But even so, I was confronted with such a fatty piece of flesh, with tiny pieces of baby sheep meat. And I remembered: I hate lamb chops.

Well, truth be told, I’ve never forgotten. And I don’t hate lamb chops per se. I hate all the fat. And I hate having to sit at the dinner table and clean my plate of the fat that I’d carefully cut away and pushed to the side. I had a memorable fight with my aunt when I was 9 or so about whether or not I should be eating the fat of the lamb chop. She insisted I should. I insisted I’d barf. I put a far too fatty piece of meat in my mouth tonight and gagged. Run and play more, little lamb. You are too fat.

I have a list where I write down “Meal Ideas That Don’t Suck” – these are the recipes I’ve nailed. I have another list where I track “Meal Ideas to Work On.” Rack of lamb has been on the latter for a while now. But fuck that. I’m not going to even try. It’s gross.

Grind me up some lamb and cook it with carrots and peas and smother it with mashed potatoes. I’ll eat it all that way. I promise.