As evidenced by my rotund physique, there are very few foods to which I say no. I like hard boiled eggs, but egg salad and deviled eggs send me running for the door. I like a good tuna salad, but unfortunately think I’m the only one who can make a good tuna salad. I hated guacamole and avocados until my 40th birthday, when some sort of margarita-powered switch was flipped.
For many years, no matter how many times I told wait staff to hold the guacamole, there would always be an ice-cream scoop shaped blob of it on my plate, so I started telling them I was allergic. That solved the problem so well, that I use that excuse for anything served to me that I find distasteful. Deviled eggs on a tray? No thanks. I’m allergic. It offends fewer people and rarely solicits further question.
My mother used to always encourage us to try the things we didn't like occasionally. Taste buds change, she would say. Well, my new found like (not love) of avocados proves her, once again, right about absolutely everything.
When my eldest sister was young, she had a sever aversion to lima beans. But really, what kid didn't? But hers was so strong that it would result in some serious battles of the will with my parents. As it turns out, she found out, much later in life, that she is actually allergic to lima beans. (So maybe Mom was wrong just that one time.)
I have a dear friend who is violently opposed to tomatoes and peppers. Her father (God rest his sweet soul) hated onions and her family would constantly sneak them into dishes and then delight in the fact that he didn't notice. I have tried this with my friend, but she is wise to me. In fact, we recently went to a demonstration kitchen where they asked us to apply a Phenylthiocarbaminde strip to our tongues to determine if we were “super tasters.” She, along with about 25% of the population, is. My husband, who will eat virtually anything, is not. I would call him an “inferior taster.” (We make a good match, since I am an inferior cook.)
I am attending a party at work tomorrow where I know egg salad will be served. It’s in a small, unventilated (and soul-sucking) conference room and I’m not sure I’ll be able to stay for long. I am not willing to follow Mom’s advice on this one and try it occasionally. I think maybe it’s because I am a “super smeller.”