Some ideas get misfiled in a person’s memories. Sometimes there are images that my brain says I should like but the more I look at them the less I want to eat them — even though my brain tells me they are delicious. Take any food with pimento cheese as an example. If you aren’t a Southerner pimento cheese is a spread made with Philadelphia cream cheese and pimento.
As a child I have a vague memory of pimento and food. I know there was some kind of Oscar Meyer sausage that had bits of pimento in it; not sure if there was cheese in the sausage too — but I am positive I had the yucky stuff in at least a couple sandwiches whilst growing up.
Not being a Southern boy, pimento cheese was nowhere to be found in the family recipe books. I’m not entirely sure I ever ate pimento cheese — I’ll say it again, that spread made with Philadelphia Cream Cheese and pimentos – or roasted red peppers. And yet…
Whenever I hear about it it sets off this pseudo-memory about something I should have liked if only I’d grown up on it. It’s a weird feeling. I know it was never part of my diet and yet I feel as if it should have been a major part of growing up.
Pimento cheese is the only food that I have this weird relationship to. And to be honest I’m not sure I actually want to try a burger like the one in the attached photo. Frankly it just looks too greasy and messy. (Says a guy who loves a drip down your forearm burger or pastrami sandwich). It’s just weird.
From the Far Side of '70 
My Danish father loved pimento lunch meat. No one else in the family could stand it. Given that I had three younger growing brothers with big appetites, it was probably a good thing or Dad would never have gotten any.
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🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 “standing it”
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