Clean Plate Club

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In the Webner household of my youth, being a member of the Clean Plate Club was an aspirational goal. Because I stubbornly refused to eat vegetables — largely because they tasted and smelled like aged sweat socks — it was an aspirational goal that I almost never achieved.

Still, old family traditions die hard. So when I found myself at the Oceanaire Seafood Room in Washington, D.C. tonight, faced with a plate of rare ahi tuna, seafood salad, ginger, and wasabi sauce, the inclination was to eat it all. No matter that the wasabi sauce made your eyes water and briefly caused your vision to go out of focus! Mom would have wanted the Clean Plate Club to have another member.

I’m proud to say that I fulfilled my clean plate obligations, and cleared up any lingering sinus issues in the process.

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