The Help is a bit squeemish regarding some food. His last girlfriend has some severe food allergies and barely ate anything. I on the other hand believe if it bleeds I can cook it and eat it. He likes the openess I have towards food but sometimes I am a little too open. I had him cleaning mussles for a dish, at some point he noticed the mussles making noises and I made the mistake of telling him they were alive. Oh, the little remarks I had to endure after that.
Before the mussle incident he would proclaim that he didn't want to eat anything with a head on it. He would eat meat or fish, just as long as there was no head on it. After the mussles he's included them in the list of things that look back at him. Dang it, I want to cook and eat blue crabs! I don't want to hear bitching about food that can attack you.
Then there was the time with the rabbit. The rabbit had no head. But there I was cutting it into parts for browning and he walked into the kitchen. The way he describes it is that its little legs were all sticking up and then I cracked the ribs. Upon the rib cracking he turned on his heel out of the kitchen. He also likes to avoid me when I've got a knife in my hands.
He's quite happy to eat what I cook, but I could deal without the wussiness of his meat eating. With further discussions we decided if push came to shove and if he had to live off the land like his hero Daniel Boone, he'd toughen up and eat things with heads and faces. Until then he's the 21st Century equivilent of the bespeckled man in the bowler hat who steps off the stagecoach in dime store Westerns.