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I heard an interview with a behavioural psychologist (I believe) who was saying almost all reactions, like fear, or anger cold be mitigated or helped with proper training and therapy, but disgust was something they couldn’t change…
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I have tried to like beans. I know they’re healthier. I know they’re a better source of protein, both for health reasons and for the environment. I want to like them. I have tried preparing them a millions different ways, and the only time I found them edible was when I made black eyed peas for new year’s a couple of years ago. And then I found out the next day I had COVID and I couldn’t taste anything. Even then, I didn’t like the peas. I just found that I could eat them without gagging. Since then, it’s back to them being inedible for me.
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Sometimes things are worth trying occasionally, just to see if they’re less problematic, but it sems disgust is something deeper (probably for good reason). I’ve learned to enjoy food I disliked, but no luck with anything that’s ever made me feel immediately ll.
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I did, for some reason, find cheese to be disgusting up until about the time I was in high school. Especially melted cheese. Now I can’t get enough of it. So sometimes things do change. It’s rare, though.
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Oh great, thanks for sending me down the rabbit hole. I think every artist there ever was recorded Jambalaya at one point.
I like Emmylou Harris’ version too.
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Damn. You beat me by seconds!
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Yeah, i think the problem is that I don’t think we’re super aware about what it is that triggers disgust; texture, scent, temperature, viscosity, or some combo of those and any number of other factors. Then, why is that a problem?
Anyhow, I try to be understanding about the difference between fear of the unknown and genuine inability to deal with a food, things are rarely simple and straightforward.
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I hated cashews. Raw, roasted, it didn’t matter. Yuck. I’d try some every few years, because my tastes have often changed. When I tried them again while in my mid-20s, I didn’t hate them at all. I ate a few more, and found myself enjoying them very much. I now happily eat cashews of any sort.
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Since active athletes have begun running their own podcasts and YT channels an entire useless genre of sportswriting has emerged; cribbing 15 seconds of dialogue into an entire-ass article for clix. I’m happy for the guy, being one of the most electric players on my hometown team and a genuinely kind (and extremely generous) guy, and he and Taylor seem to make each other haply, so I have a very hard time understanding the second evolution of this into pop-sports paparazzi-enabled “writing”. It’s only slightly less disgusting than the constant reminder that half of the people watching the sport have had their experience corrupted by legalized gambling being shoved down everyone’s throat.
For context, Aaron Rodgers, in spite of his deeply held convictions (
), plays for the NY Jets, a team owned by Robert “Woody” Johnson, heir of pharmaceutical company Johnson & Johnson.
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I feel like this is entirely making fun for using the word pooey. If he said he didn’t like the texture and unappetizing look, it wouldn’t be a story. If he said he didn’t appreciate the mouthfeel and excremental presentation, then he’d be a connoisseur.
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Also
every time I try it, I’m just like, ‘uggh.’
Sounds like the guy has given it an entirely fair chance, not just reflexively turned something down because it looked icky.
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All food is pooey, eventually.
I depend on this for my very livelihood.
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Did you try them recently?
They are not the same they were when I was younger (I preferred them then, but I have a penchant for bitter tastes).
I only tried that recently, and found it delicious - but, again, I struggle to remember anything I’ve tasted I did not actively appreciate - including durian.
As a kid I did not like ‘trippa’ (tripes? thin slices of a couple of cow’s stomachs), and ricotta cheese, but I love them now.
Careful what you wish…
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I did like properly steamed brussels sprouts, but it doesn’t seem to happen often.
Kale is far too bitter for me. We had a ready-to-eat Indian dish with some kale in it, and I asked him not to buy that one again.
Also, anything that can’t get past my nose, I can’t eat.
German customers at the deli laughed when I called the Tilsiter (an exceptionally strongly-scented cheese) Fußkäse [foot-cheese]. An occasional customer would chide me for saying that, telling me to try it. They thought me a wimp when I explained I couldn’t eat anything that can’t get past my nose, even when the physical impossibility was also pointed out.
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Don’t yum someone else’s yuck.
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The one and only thing I have to say about Kelce’s dislike of jambalaya: More for me!
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We follow Paul Prudhomme’s recipe, something that, in my single days, I tried for the first time on my visiting, globe-trotting foodie parents soon after I moved to California. On a whim I doubled the amount of chicken and veggies in the broth, so, yeah, double-strength. They went nuts over it, claiming that it (far, far from soupy) was much better than what they had in New Orleans. I’ve since learned that it’s normal for restaurants to work with small profit margins, hence the possibility that corners were cut. Perhaps they didn’t experience a proper jambalaya in N.O. Corroboration of that came on a visit several years back to what was touted as the best Cajun restaurant in the San Fernando Valley (maybe the best in Los Angeles County), Les Sisters’. Big fat "nope’ on the seafood jambalaya. Lesson: Make it yourself.
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I’ve met him,
, he was a real sweetheart and probably wouldn’t
have any issue with this Kelce guy.
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… something that appeared in some soups served to me by my baby-sitting maternal grandparents, something which I spooned around but never ate. Since moving to California, I’ve experienced it in menudo served in my first employer’s cafeteria during Cinque de Mayo, and for some reason it was tolerable that way. I did enjoy other fare served up by my grandparents, such as stuffed beef tongue (I’ve since given up red meats), and knishes (always split and slathered with mustard).
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