You may think these are all foods that I love…or possibly foods that I love to cook…or even maybe foods that I have special attachment to. Well, special attachment to in a round-about way, yes, but not in any remotely-even-close-to-positive sort of way.

I have to start out by saying I love my mother, she is a great, great person, and she has always tried to provide her kids with nutritious, creative, exciting and tasty foods. However, over the years that I lived under her roof and was forced to eat what was put in front of me, I grew to despise certain foods that we ate a lot of…or at least it seemed like we ate them a lot. I guess when you’re a child and those two days a month that your mom decides to serve beets, well they seem like they could never be too far apart. Honestly I think the beets were more my fault, the smell of them cooking in the kitchen hunted me out upstairs in my room and invaded my olfactory senses like a freight train. Come time to sit down for dinner, I couldn’t bear to put one anywhere close to my mouth, and so I got really good at saving them until last, secretly hoping that my mom would look at my plate and say “Oh, let me get those stinky things out of your way!”. But no, they just got cold and tasted 100 times more gross when I had to choke them down. To this day, I can’t go near them.

And don’t get me started on cucumber & cheese sandwiches. My mom was kind enough to make my lunch until at least grade 6 if memory serves me correctly, of which I should probably be thankful, except that most high school teens don’t sit and eat a civilized lunch with their colleagues. Combined with a ridiculously small locker, lunches don’t last long if left unattended…for days. Especially cucumber & cheese sandwiches. Ingredients melt, bread starts growing extra layers, and funky smells begin to rise. Not a situation that makes one want to eat what is beginning to grow legs in ones locker. Hmmm, again possibly my fault.

And finally, onions. I actually don’t mind onions today, if they’re chopped up quite small and I can’t really discern them in the dish I’m eating. As my mother used to say “You can’t taste them…they’re just for flavour!” Ummm…say what? Aren’t taste and flavour the same thing? I was only a youngin’ at the time but even I knew that made no sense.

So, Basil Gazing’s question of the day is:

Are there foods that you were forced to eat or ate often that have played a role in your food likes/dislikes/choices today?

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