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casseroles. any kind. doesn't matter. the casserole is the outcome, over history, of: "shit jane, is all this stuff rotten? i guess we'd better throw it in a dish and hide it under some bread and cheese". amorphous tubs of pudding-like gelatin do not excite my culinary sensibilities.
and i'm pretty much anti-potluck anything. all those different people, with their different hygeine issues, bringing food that i'm supposed to not only eat, but relish?
icky icky foo
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You don't love me, you just love my piggy style
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