I eat the crust first. If it’s a pie, or pizza, I eat the part with the least amount of flavour first.
It’s the same with cakes and tarts.
My preference is based (pun intended) on these being the driest and least flavoured parts of these dishes. Especially if it’s shop bought.
There’s no way of knowing if the base will be too doughy, or too thick, so getting that part out of the way helps.
Some may argue to just not eat base at all. But that would be wasteful, and I was raised to finish my food.
The guilt left from not consuming the entire dish may have been engrained by my parents who always ensured that we had wholesome home-cooked meals. And as I reflect on my childhood, the groceries bought to make up these meals were as a result of particular consideration and budgeting.
We didn’t waste in our home.
The meat in our food ensured that we had balanced meals with protein, but I wonder why I still keep the meat for last.
It’s an odd habit. Meat in any dish I eat is always the prize. And I finish the other components first so that the taste of meat lingers a bit longer.
But back to the crust.
Anyone who’s watched the Great British Bake Off knows that the crust at it’s basic level must have a buttery flavour, and be moist enough to complement the filling.
And when you run your fork from the top of the cake down to that crust, you ensure that you get the perfect bite of all the flavours of the dish.
But I know all the good stuff is in the centre. Even with a pizza; it’s the part densely populated with all the gooey or veggie goodness that gets me every time.
That’s where all the flavour is.
It may be a weird logic, but there it is. I also open a chips packet from the bottom.
The reasoning?
I don’t want my last bite of the packet to be crumbs.
I’ve may have elicited a shocked intake of breath from friends, but my logic stands. The last Dorito is more often than not decently sized, covered in flavouring, and most importantly, not sawdust.