Pickles.

Reason: Texture and taste.

Le vom.

This is kind of a funny one because I can handle pickled onions in small amounts, and I love capers. Olives are ok if they're chopped just right... and if they're black olives. There's just something about the slimy outside and the not-so-great crunch of the inside that I can't stand... not to mention the flavor.

Also contributing to the disgust is the cucumber factor. Yeah, I'm not a huge fan of those, either. Poor pickle. You never even had a chance.

Avocados.

Reason: Texture and taste.

I grew up on a small avocado farm in California. When people hear that, they usually go bananas (which I'll get to later) because they think it would be heaven. I never grew a hankering for them, though our three dogs did. There were pits all over the lawn and the orchard.

I always thought it was because I was so stubborn that I just wouldn't try avocados. Then, one day, some avocado showed up in a burrito I was eating. It was revolting. End of story.

Eggs.

Reason: Texture, taste, smell, sight.

I can remember eating them as a little kid, but my dad once made me a whole mess of "green eggs" (you know, like Dr. Seuss), and they didn't stay put. Since that day I can stomach neither the smell nor the sight of eggs.

In my basement, I have an apartment that I rent out, usually to friends or acquaintances. The kitchen of that apartment is right below my bedroom. My friend Travis lived down there for about 6 months and every fucking morning he made eggs. I probably could have requested that he stop, but I either (a) am a glutton for punishment, or (b) didn't feel right about asking someone not to cook something that's perfectly reasonable to most people and offers a lot of good nutrients to those who choose to dig in. It's likely a bit of both.

It's typical of my father to have the best of food intentions, but for me to break his heart by either not eating something or having a vom later because it was gross. Here's the photo of the green eggs he made. You see if you egg-eaters can even stomach looking at them. Funny that the experience didn't put me off bacon. Honestly, the eggs in this photo look like they were affected by tint and hue retouching.

An INGTET Story: The Picky Etiquette

This blog is dedicated to all of the everyday food items I will not eat. Some people think I'm crazy, but I'm just picky. I'd be a great challenge on Top Chef.

People say to me all the time, "how do you know you don't like it if you won't try it?" I understand why this question makes sense to people. Allow me to answer.

First, I have tried most things that are on this list, and this list used to be much, MUCH longer. For example, I used to think onions were the most disgusting things in the world. Then, all of a sudden, one day, while I was working in Noah's Bagels as a slacker college grad, the onion-smelling walk-in refrigerator smelled really, really good to me. Since that day, I eat all kinds of onions. Tomatoes, asparagus, spinach... I'm a convert to all of those, and I started to like most of those in my 20s.

Another way to think about it: you know how a cat will generally avoid certain plants that are toxic to it? You know, that sort of 6th sense that says "don't bother"? I prefer to think of my avoidance like that. If it's just unappetizing to me and it's not necessary for me to eat it, why would I make myself do something that I find revolting? I trust my sense of smell when it comes to foodstuffs because it's never been wrong. I can't argue my sense of smell into submission.

Bitter is the devil. I've read stuff on supertasters and theories that say stuff like children may have evolved a dislike for bitter things because many poisons are bitter, and therefore, they're better off just not liking them. I never grew out of that. It would be a different story if I were living on nothing but cookies and beer, but that's not the case. Based on this, yes, I believe I am a supertaster (connotations of "super" aside... it just means beyond, it doesn't mean superior).

Also, if it's going to cause me stress and heartache because I then have to tell you that I don't like the ______ that you made, I'd rather just avoid it all together. You and I are both better off... no one feels slighted, no one feels guilty for not loving something made by someone they love. I do love you, and I want to like your ______, but there's often no accounting for revulsion.

All of that said, I really do my best to make it look like I like something even when I don't. It's well within the realm of politeness and consideration to fake it. If flat-out asked whether I like something, I'll usually find something good to say about it, even if I can't eat it. If I can't find something good to say about it, I'll break the news to you gently. I'll tell you how this played out with Czech relatives in Prague sometime.

Anyhoo, now that I feel like I've over-justified and over-defended my stance, I'll get to the posting. Like the subtitle says, I am aware that you think I'm crazy. I just can't help it.