I was a picky eater growing up, the list of foods I didn’t care for was long. It included (but was by no means limited to) seafood of all descriptions, broccoli, pepper, turnip, cauliflower, spaghetti sauce (tomato sauces of all kinds, really), corn flakes, and liver. Oh god, I hated liver.
Because I was a child, and because my parents worked hard for every scrap of food they could put on the table in front of us, I was generally expected to clean my plate. There were kids starving in China, after all. The turnip I could mash in with my potato and struggle to get in down. The broccoli could be smothered in butter and salt and made tolerable. The tomato sauce (to which the childhood aversion was admittedly brief) I was allowed to do away with, and I chose to eat my pasta like I ate my broccoli – salted and buttered.
I have long regarded food as a salt and butter delivery system, and my picky childhood nature suggests why. But this didn’t work for corn flakes and liver. Those I had to struggle down, no matter how soggy or chewy. From time to time I could slip a piece of liver to the dog. More often, my parents (or dog) got wise to the trick and prevented it.
When I became an adult – meaning when I began to feed myself – I put all my childhood hatreds on a forbidden list. But because I am an adult, I am also aware that tastes change, and so I subject myself to the forbidden every once in a while. That’s how I found out I love broccoli.
I mean, really love it. It is one of my favourite foods in the world, and easily my favourite vegetable. It doesn’t even need salt and butter, although obviously it is enhanced by their presence. And then last night, which is what triggered this note in the first place, I came to the unexpected discovery that turnip is delicious. Just absolutely yummy. Imagine my surprise.
I am not ready to re-try liver yet. Just seeing it in the grocery store is enough to trigger my gag reflex, but who knows? I had corn flakes for breakfast just this morning.
Tangents 