It always amazes me that DH has not eaten a chinese take away for years, and when I think back to when we were first married and living in Singapore, a little man with a charcoal brazier on a barrow used to come down the road ringing a bell and DH would dash out with a bowl and come back with - variously - nasi goring, mah mee, or some other stir fried concoction which he would eat with great relish, washed down with Tiger beer. I once offered to go out and get it for him, and when I saw this little man and his portable kitchen, I recoiled in horror. He was filthy. His barrow was filthy. His wiping cloths and equipment were filthy. I went back inside and yelled "you are not eating anymore of that! You'll get something horrible!" Whereupon he grabbed the bowl and chased the man down the road! He never did get anything horrible. Cooked at extremely high heat and served immediately, germs would have had no chance to flourish I don't suppose. And yet now, he will not eat food even the most hygienic takeaway. Can't fathom it, myself!