1. The Sin of Watered-Down Condiments:
I used to share a house with a guy, and we would split the bill for food essentials like condiments. Every time a sauce bottle got down to being about a third full, he would fill it up with water and shake it before using it to "get his money's worth."
2. The Sin of Leftover Salad:
A server at a restaurant where I used to bartend would fill carryout boxes with guests' leftovers instead of scraping their food scraps into the garbage. She saved damn near everything — I'm talking half a tomato slice, crusty old fries, a single bite of a burger — and would just throw it all in a box. Then, at the end of her shift, she would mix it all together and eat it like a salad.
3. The Sin of Soggy Doritos:
My parents said when I was 4 I'd get a bag of Doritos, lick all the powder off some chips, and put them back in the bag. When my parents would try to eat some, they'd suddenly be horrified by grabbing a cold and soggy chip.
4. The Sin of Vinegary Macaroni:
My wife will take a handful of raw macaroni and throw it in her mouth, and then pour in copious amounts of vinegar and chew it all together. It still grosses me out watching her.
5. The Sin of Lysoled Chicken:
A guy my fiancé used to work with would wipe pieces of chicken with the lemon-scented hand wipes from KFC thinking that they were meant for seasoning.
6. The Sin of Coffee Mousse Garlic Bread:
On a flight last week, the lady sitting next to me took the coffee mousse we had been served for dessert and spread it all over the side of garlic bread, and then proceeded to eat it together.
7. The Sin of Apple Juice Cheerios:
While staying at my mom's friend's house, she offered us Cheerios and then brought out apple juice and poured it in the bowl with the cereal. My mom and I looked at each other and knew telepathically we were in the presence of something evil.
8. The Sin of Medium-Rare Chicken:
I once witnessed someone eating chicken "medium-rare."
9. The Sin of Microwaved Turkey:
My dad used to cook the Thanksgiving turkey ridiculously early, at like 9 a.m., even though we didn’t eat till normal dinner time. So he’d take the delicious turkey out of the oven, put it in the fridge for five hours, carve it right before dinner, pile it onto a platter, and then stick the platter in the microwave. I usually slept in on Thanksgiving, so I didn’t catch on to this abhorrent practice until I moved out and started coming over for Thanksgiving. These days, I’m married with my own house, so I host dinner. Last year everyone was amazed at how moist my turkey was. Yeah, turns out not microwaving the shit out of it makes it taste pretty good. Who knew?
10. The Sin of Spaghetti Smoothies:
On behalf of my wife, I tell this story about myself. I once had a really sore mouth and couldn’t chew food. My wife made spaghetti Bolognese, and I told her I still couldn’t eat, so she just ate alone and put the rest in the fridge. However, I was so hungry from not eating properly for a couple of days that I later put the leftovers in a blender and drank a cold spaghetti Bolognese smoothie. She almost threw up watching it, but it was actually okay.
11. The Sin of Soggy French Fries:
As a child, my aunt would lick the salt off of her Wendy's fries when the family went out to eat. Not knowing what she had done, my grandpa would be horrified with her for not eating her fries and would eat them himself. So basically my grandma and aunt let him believe Wendy's just had the worst, soggiest fries in the world for years before he caught her in the act.
12. The Sin of Sushi Pizza:
My coworker likes to eat extremely strange food combinations. The worst I have seen was a slice of pepperoni pizza covered in pieces of a California roll. He then covered the whole thing with a thick coating of nutritional yeast.
13. The Sin of Ranch-Covered Crab Leg:
I've worked in restaurants for 20 years, and the worst thing I ever witnessed was someone dipping crab legs WITH RANCH DRESSING.
14. The Sin of Applesauce Soup:
My roommate puts almost everything — tacos, fish, spaghetti, steak, burgers, etc. — into a bowl of applesauce. It's horrifying.
15. The Sin of Strawberry Scrambled Eggs:
I'm a waitress. I've seen it all, and I don't judge, except for this one time... The woman's order started out simple: three egg, soft-scrambled, with spinach and goat cheese...and fresh strawberries. That's right. Strawberries, scrambled, in the eggs. They turned this grey-brown color, but she ate every bite.
16. The Sin of Ungodly Lasagna:
I once had an bizarre temporary house mate. If I cooked and had extra, she would have some, no big whoop. I'm Italian-American and don't understand portion control so I make vats of food. But one night, she, of her own volition, decided to make dinner for just the two of us. I was immediately confused because there was nothing in the fridge with which to make dinner. I then looked to the counter, and she had gotten out a couple half jars of salsa from a recent party, a bottle of ketchup, and a jar of olives. "What're you making?" I asked, knowing I was going to hate the answer. "Lasagna!" she said. It was at that moment I knew I needed to GTFO of that house. The final recipe? Three half jars of salsa, one half bottle of ketchup, one half jar of salad olives, and one half box of elbow macaroni.
17. And finally, the Sin of Wasted Turkey Skin:
I went to Thanksgiving dinner at my then-girlfriend's parents' place to meet them for the first time. I wanted to make a good impression, so I brought a corn casserole that ended up being a big hit with most of her family. Dinner was done cooking, and all that remained was for her dad to carve the turkey. He started carving the skin off of the turkey, which seemed weird, but I assumed he wanted to give people the option of skin-on or skin-off turkey. Meanwhile, I was just staring at the pile of turkey skin, nearly drooling. He then proceeded to grab all of that slightly crunchy, sizzling, perfectly browned goodness and throw it directly into the trash can. It was then that I knew it wasn't going to work out.
Editor's note: Responses have been edited for length and clarity.