Nobody can say that my eating habits have ever been precisely orthodox. Whenever I go to a restaurant, or there are distinctive foods available at either a party, church or workplace, I’m the kind of character who can be counted upon always to go for the really eccentric stuff. I’ve never been concerned about drinking only red wine with meat or white with seafood. I’ve always raised more than most people’s share of eyebrows over the years for my taste in food combinations and toppings. I often put salad dressing on meat. In spite of all the whining I get from others, I highly recommend it. There are many people who just can’t get over my liking ketchup on eggs, though I think it’s a more common practice than they’re willing to admit. Maybe it’s because my parents were both from northeastern Pennsylvania but I’ve always had several seriously offbeat quirks anyway, including some involving food. The weirdest thing I’ve ever eaten may have been a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with pickles. It was quite a very long time ago and I haven’t ever bothered with it even the least bit recently. I can remember having gotten quite a kick out of it. It just occurred to me, as far as I can remember, entirely on an impulse.