foods you cannot stand and won't eat

[Ken Gargett]

the thread on the lucas paw paw got me thinking.

what foods do you hate and will not eat?

for me, the three 'P's. 

paw paw (or papaya if you come from less enlightened nations). dad used to love them. grew them and would chop them up for breakfast. i would have to turn around and walk straight out of the kitchen and go elsewhere. cannot stand the smell of them. or the taste. love mangos and many other similar fruits but paw paw, not at the point of a gun. 

popcorn. i do love the smell of popcorn but not eating the stuff. dislike it enormously. have tried every possible way. nothing works.

pumpkin. cattle food. i do like a good pumpkin soup but otherwise, awful. i feel sorry for cattle. 

 

[cmbarton]

I won’t touch spaghetti. Ever.

When I was child, my aunt lived in Italy and married an Italian man, Elio, with incredible cooking abilities. When they moved to the U.S., Elio kept watch over me while my parents worked during the day. Two things he did every day that I dutifully helped him with: helping the priest and nuns at the local Catholic Church and cooking dinner, often times spaghetti and meatballs.

Now as an adult, I feel I have gotten a lifetime’s worth of spaghetti and have committed to never eat it again.

Same goes for Catholic Church.

[stogieluver]

Wild game and fishy tasting fish.  Have a lot of deer hunting friends who often try to get me to eat deer meat and deer sausage. They all claim that "if it's cooked right it tastes good".  If it has to be cooked a certain way, it's not for me, and besides, no matter how it's cooked I still hate the taste.

I love good fried catfish (freshwater farm raised) and good fresh saltwater fish such as Red Snapper, Speckled Trout, Redfish, etc., but there are some really nasty tasting saltwater fish that I just can't stomach.  Funny, because I love raw oysters, but they don't taste "fishy" to me.

[HarveyBoulevard]

Cottage cheese & Olives are the first two that come to mind. 

Don't really like anything in/from/around/near the water...unless it's a cow or pig or lamb in a pasture near the coast : )

I will think of more.  

 

[stogieluver]

14 minutes ago, cmbarton said:

I won’t touch spaghetti. Ever.

When I was child, my aunt lived in Italy and married an Italian man, Elio, with incredible cooking abilities. When they moved to the U.S., Elio kept watch over me while my parents worked during the day. Two things he did every day that I dutifully helped him with: helping the priest and nuns at the local Catholic Church and cooking dinner, often times spaghetti and meatballs.

Now as an adult, I feel I have gotten a lifetime’s worth of spaghetti and have committed to never eat it again.

Same goes for Catholic Church.

On a two week trip to Italy a couple of years ago I got sick of Italian food.  Daily dosages of pasta, pizza etc. all of which I love otherwise just was too much of a good thing.  By the end of the trip, we were looking for a McDonalds, or anything other than Italian food.  We found a Chinese restaurant in Venice our last night there, and laughed at the tourist passing by the restaurant seeing us eating Chinese and wondering why the hell someone would eat Chinese food in Venice. 

[LLC]

Peanut butter. Can’t do it, I think it is a texture issue because I like peanuts.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[LLC]

Cottage cheese & Olives are the first two that come to mind. 
Don't really like anything in/from/around/near the water...unless it's a cow or pig or lamb in a pasture near the coast : )
I will think of more.  
 

Ok, I’ll add cottage cheese to my list and I do love all kinds of cheese.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[Islandboy]

Vegemite. My step dad’s Australian, we always had the vile stuff around when I was young. 

[Colt45]

Olives. I love olive oil and use it daily, but I just don't care for whole olives.

[SigmundChurchill]

Uncooked tomatoes.

George Carlin didn't eat tomatoes either.  He said that there was something afoul inside them, like they are still in the larval stage.

I feel the same.  I love ketchup.  I love tomato sauce even more.  I am even fine with baked tomatoes.  I just cant eat them raw.

[Stump89]

Raisins and anything containing them.  Totally gross me out. Also have a strong dislike for whole milk.  

[westg]

Mint..anything mint...mint chocolate..so gross...The thought of anyone drinking spearmint milk makes me sick ..

 

[rcarlson]

Brussel Sprouts.  Not in a box. Not with a fox. Not in a house. Not with a mouse. I would not eat them here or there.

[Ken Gargett]

28 minutes ago, LLC said:

Peanut butter. Can’t do it, I think it is a texture issue because I like peanuts.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

not fond of peanut butter also. can eat it but don't really do so by choice. 

[mikeyjb]

Oysters. Yuck!

Sent from my Android using Tapatalk

[Islandboy]

You guys are making me hungry.

[BlackFriar]

Any breakfast version of a U.S. military Meal Ready to Eat (MRE).  It's been awhile since I was in but someone had to put years of research into making something so awful.  

 

Oh... And T-Ration Three Bean Salad.  It comes in a large flat tin for a platoon of Soldiers and was infamous for producing the worst flatulance imaginable.  I was in an Infantry Battalion where the Commander would gather the principal staff officers and company commanders for the evening's planning session and make everyone present eat that horrid shit.  They would proceed to button up the GP Small Tent they were working on the orders in and no one was allowed out till the orders were completely hashed out.  Made for some hellishly efficient officers at the expedited military decision making process.

[Ken Gargett]

14 minutes ago, Islandboy said:

Vegemite. My step dad’s Australian, we always had the vile stuff around when I was young. 

agreed. utterly vile. 

dad used to have a cup of hot vegemite soup when he came home from fishing but i hate the stuff. 

i often travel with a mate who loves it and carries it with him wherever he goes. i got an article out of it once. a lot of this is irrelevant, especially the first part (my mate, colin gaetjens - known as the colonel - actually got permission to use it for his annual office christmas missive so at least he wasn't offended) but i will never forget that spanish airport and the vegemite incident. and the story even has a small cigar connection. 

 

Travels with the Colonel.

 

Caught up with Colin Gaetjens in Paris to head across to the Mosel. Needless to say, at least to those who know him, he would be doing the driving and navigating. After forgetting what side of the road he was supposed to be on about 18 times, and over-correcting about 18 times, we finally come to a large flowing body of water. “That would be the River Something”, he proudly announces. Marco Polo couldn't have put it better.

 

We finally reach the winery of Egon Muller at the appointed time (or thereabouts). Egon has a group of 20-something somms from all over Europe with him and they are about to climb one of the world's steepest vineyards, Wiltinger, and drink some 20-year-old Auslese at the summit. Would we be interested?

 

“Absolutely”, declares Colin, adding that he'd show these young whippersnappers a thing or two (yes, he does talk like that). Off we set. What seemed a very long time later, we emerge from the vines at a ledge running along the top – so we thought. Sadly, this ledge is about a ¼ of the way up. Sir Edmund Gaetjens throws in the towel. All too much. 'Don't have anything to prove to these young whippersnappers', most of whom are now little more than dots on far distant slopes.

 

I tell him I'll see him later. No, he demands, you have to help me down. Some days just keep giving.

 

“But not here. Too steep.”

“Where isn’t?”

“We'll find somewhere.”

We don't.

 

So we set off down a slope that would embarrass a mountain goat. I keep seeing newspaper reports declaring that one of Germany's prized vineyards was today destroyed by two fat Aussies avalanching down it. Meanwhile, Egon has skipped back down the slopes to assist. We finally get back to earth. Egon suggests that perhaps we'd like to drive up (seriously? We could have done that in the first place?). So we head around and up the backroads.

 

By the time we get there, the somms are all guzzling Auslese. Inevitably, we cop merry hell from them (deservedly so). Australia's good name took a fearful beating that afternoon. While I am running around trying to convince them all that Gaetjens is actually a Kiwi and nothing to do with us, he takes a turn for the worse. Slumps against a vineyard wall. Everyone rushes over to assist (some people will do anything to be the centre of attention). He has, in truth, gone whiter than a KKK AGM and really does not look good. He can't speak (silver lining?). We carry him across to the car and lie him down. Everyone is trying to work out if we can get an ambulance up to the summit or where the nearest hospital is (well, perhaps not everyone. I’m wondering if his wife knows he brought a suitcase of '99 Burgundies with him and if she'd notice if they went missing).

 

We manage to drive him back down, along the narrowest sliver of dirt-track you have ever seen, and via a traffic pile-up, as the road back to the winery is one lane and apparently some Germans have not been told how important Colin is and that we therefore have an automatic right of way.

 

We get back to the winery, give him a reviving drink and within minutes he is arguing, complaining, directing everyone around, abusing the GPS machine because places are not where he believes they should be and generally giving a critique of the shortcomings of everyone else on the road – in other words, back to his old self.

 

In his defence, it was extremely steep and he is old, fat and unfit.

 

We have put down his unexpected grumpiness to the fact that he forgot his Vegemite and as anyone who witnessed 'the Madrid incident' knows, Gaetjens and that black slime are not easily parted.

 

For those not in the northern hemisphere that fateful day, our hero arrived at the Madrid airport for an internal flight, dressed in his prize blue pork pie hat (who travels with a different hat for each day of the week?). He had with him, in his hand luggage, a tube of Vegemite. The unsuspecting woman at Spanish Customs advised him that she was confiscating it (under the 'no paste' rule – or possibly the 'good taste' rule). She was advised, in return, that she was not. Chaos followed and within minutes, a crowd of, without exaggeration, 400 bemused onlookers had gathered to witness the battle.

 

Our hero first regaled the poor woman with tales of the glories of the slime and hence why he should be allowed to take it with him – she had absolutely no idea what it was or what it could be used for but she was not buying this myth that anyone would be so insane as to actually try eating it. When that didn't work, Colin tried identifying the shortcomings of Spanish Customs. That worked about as well as you'd expect. He then moved on to his personal thoughts on Spain itself. As far as I could work out, Spain's greatest crime was... not being France.

 

By now, the crowd was getting restless and offering opinions – I have no idea if they were for or against our intrepid hero but I could take a wild guess. I was calling for a strip search but no one was listening to me.

 

Eventually, telling them that this wasn't over, Colin abandoned his slime (to be honest, it pretty much was all over by then). For the next hour in the airport, I watched little children duck behind the legs of adults to hide when they saw him coming and I am convinced that Spanish parents now put the fear of God into their kids by telling them tales of how the black slime man in the weird hat will come for them in the night if they don't behave.

 

On a more serious note, back in the Mosel, Egon wanted to do a comparison of one of his wines – 2011 Schartzhofberger Spatlese – under screwcap and cork. No prizes for guessing which looked absolutely scintillating and which looked very reserved, and a touch dull. One or two of the somms took their heads out of their bottoms long enough to declare that this meant the wine under cork was much more profound.

 

But the highlight of the day came, when in mid tasting (we were outdoors), Egon fired up a big cigar. Imagine what the need-a-cause, rent-a-mouth crowd would say about anyone doing that back home.

 

We have a few more wineries to visit in the Mosel but fortunately the Colonel assures me he has given up alpine ascents.

 

Never dull.

 

KBG

[Cayman17]

While pledging my fraternity, there was a forgettable “mandatory” lunch that involved Limburger cheese (smells like feces) and a sandwich that I believe contained some sort of olive-loaf type meat product. Dessert was a live goldfish. 

The entire menu is off-limits to this day. 

[CaskStrength]

16 minutes ago, Stump89 said:

Raisins and anything containing them. 

 

13 minutes ago, rcarlson said:

Brussel Sprouts.  Not in a box. Not with a fox. Not in a house. Not with a mouse. I would not eat them here or there.

Both of these.  I don't even like scotches with a strong raisin note.  As for brussels sprouts, I only had them severely overcooked as a kid until i learned to slip them to the dog.  I've had them cooked better as an adult but they've been ruined for me.  Even bacon can't render them edible to me.

 

I'm also not a fan of plain water.  The complete lack of flavour does not sit well with me at all.

[Diabolicalpherpher]

Durian, can't even get it close to my mouth without retching. 

Insects.

[dvickery]

Cabbage boiled

derrek

[Fuzz]

1 hour ago, westg said:

Mint..anything mint...mint chocolate..so gross...The thought of anyone drinking spearmint milk makes me sick ..

 

So I guess no mojitos for you in Cuba this November?

[gweilgi]

1 hour ago, Islandboy said:

Vegemite. My step dad’s Australian, we always had the vile stuff around when I was young. 

That's hate speech!

Where are the moderators when you need them?

(just kidding ... Marmite is clearly superior!)

[Ken Gargett]

5 minutes ago, gweilgi said:

That's hate speech!

Where are the moderators when you need them?

(just kidding ... Marmite is clearly superior!)

deciding whether marmite or vegemite (which was, at one stage, going to be called parkan, in response to marmite) is better is like deciding if you want to be executed or condemned to solitary confinement for life with no possibility of parole.