Table of Contents
- 1 Foods I Still Can’t Stand: A Culinary Confession
- 1.1 The Foods That Still Make Me Cringe
- 1.1.1 Okra: The Slimy Vegetable I Just Can’t Love
- 1.1.2 Beets: Earthy in All the Wrong Ways
- 1.1.3 Liver: The Organ Meat That’s Just Too Organ-y
- 1.1.4 Cilantro: The Herb That Tastes Like Soap
- 1.1.5 Blue Cheese: The Funk That’s Just Too Funky
- 1.1.6 Canned Tuna: The Fish That’s Just Too Fishy
- 1.1.7 Black Licorice: The Candy That’s Not Candy
- 1.1.8 Cottage Cheese: The Curd That Shouldn’t Be
- 1.1.9 Olives: The Fruit That’s Just Too Bitter
- 1.1.10 Mushrooms: The Fungus Among Us That I Can’t Stand
- 1.2 Why Can’t I Like These Foods?
- 1.3 FAQ
- 1.1 The Foods That Still Make Me Cringe
Foods I Still Can’t Stand: A Culinary Confession
You know, as someone who’s spent years writing about food, exploring Nashville’s vibrant culinary scene, and even growing some of my own ingredients, I feel like I should have a more… refined palate? But here’s the thing – there are still foods I just can’t stand. And I’m not talking about your basic childhood aversions that fade with age. These are foods that, despite my best efforts and repeated exposure, still make me cringe.
I remember when I first moved to Nashville from the Bay Area, I was determined to embrace all aspects of Southern cuisine. And I have, mostly. But there are some things that just don’t sit right with me. Maybe it’s the texture, maybe it’s the smell, or maybe it’s just some deep-seated psychological block. Whatever it is, these foods remain firmly on my “no thanks” list.
In this article, I’m going to confess my culinary sins. I’ll talk about the foods I still dislike, why I think that is, and whether I think I’ll ever come around. Because let’s face it – as a food writer, admitting you dislike certain foods feels almost like professional heresy. But I think it’s important to be honest about these things. After all, isn’t food as much about personal experience as it is about objective quality?
The Foods That Still Make Me Cringe
Okra: The Slimy Vegetable I Just Can’t Love
Oh, okra. Where do I even begin? I know, I know – it’s a Southern staple. It’s nutritious. It’s versatile. But that slime… I just can’t get past it. I’ve tried it fried, which is supposed to be the gateway okra for people like me. I’ve had it in gumbo. I’ve even tried those fancy restaurant preparations where they claim to have minimized the sliminess. But no matter what, that texture just sets off all my alarm bells.
Is it just me? Maybe. But I think there’s something primal about the aversion to slimy textures. It’s like our brains are wired to associate that texture with spoilage or something unsafe to eat. I’ve talked to other food professionals who feel the same way. One chef friend of mine says it’s like eating a spoonful of aloe vera gel – just not pleasant.
I keep thinking I should give it another try. Maybe there’s some magical preparation out there that will change my mind. But honestly? I’m not holding my breath. Some foods you just have to accept you’ll never love, and for me, okra might be one of them.
Beets: Earthy in All the Wrong Ways
Beets are another one of those foods that I feel like I should love. They’re beautiful, they’re nutritious, and they’re so darn photogenic. But that earthy flavor… it’s just too much for me. It’s like eating a mouthful of dirt, and not in that pleasant, truffle-y way that food writers sometimes describe.
I’ve tried them roasted, which is supposed to bring out their sweetness. I’ve had them pickled, which adds a nice tang. I’ve even tried those golden beets that people say are milder. But no matter what, that underlying earthiness just dominates everything. It’s like the beet equivalent of that one relative who always manages to make every conversation about themselves.
And don’t even get me started on beet juice. I tried it once in a smoothie, thinking maybe blending it would help. Big mistake. It was like drinking liquid soil. I couldn’t finish it. Maybe I’m just not sophisticated enough to appreciate beets. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s okay to admit that some flavors just aren’t for everyone.
Liver: The Organ Meat That’s Just Too Organ-y
Now, liver is a tricky one. I feel like as a food writer, I should be more adventurous with offal. And I have tried. Oh, how I’ve tried. But that metallic, iron-rich taste… it’s just too much. It’s like eating a bloody steak that’s been left out in the sun too long. The texture doesn’t help either – it’s simultaneously mealy and slick in a way that just doesn’t work for me.
I’ve had it prepared in all sorts of ways. Pâté, which is supposed to be the most approachable form. Fried with onions. Even in those little pills that people swear by for nutrition. But no matter what, my body just rejects it. There’s something about the flavor that triggers this almost physical revulsion.
Is it psychological? Maybe. I remember my grandmother trying to feed me liver as a kid, telling me it would make me strong. Maybe that childhood memory is coloring my perception. Or maybe, again, it’s just one of those foods that isn’t meant for me. And you know what? That’s okay.
Cilantro: The Herb That Tastes Like Soap
Ah, cilantro. The herb that divides families and ends friendships. I know I’m not alone in this one – there’s actually a genetic component to cilantro aversion. For some people, it tastes fresh and citrusy. For me? It tastes like soap. Not even nice soap. Like that cheap, industrial soap you find in public restrooms.
I’ve tried to like it, I really have. I’ve had it in tiny amounts, thinking maybe I could build up a tolerance. I’ve tried the “fresh” cilantro that people swear is different. But no matter what, that soapy flavor just dominates everything. It’s like my taste buds have a personal vendetta against this herb.
The worst is when it’s hidden in dishes. You think you’re safe, taking a bite of what looks like a delicious taco or bowl of pho, and then BAM – soap explosion in your mouth. I’ve learned to always ask if there’s cilantro in a dish before ordering. It’s just not worth the risk.
Blue Cheese: The Funk That’s Just Too Funky
I love cheese. Like, really love cheese. But blue cheese? That’s where I draw the line. It’s not just the smell, though that’s certainly part of it. It’s the overwhelming funk that just takes over everything. It’s like someone took perfectly good cheese and let it rot in a cave for too long.
I’ve tried the milder versions, the ones that people say are more approachable. I’ve had it in dressings, where it’s supposed to be more subtle. But no matter what, that blue cheese flavor just dominates. It’s like the cheese equivalent of that one friend who always has to be the center of attention, even when it’s not appropriate.
And don’t even get me started on the texture. That combination of creamy and crumbly with those veins of mold running through it… it’s just too much. I’ll stick with my brie and cheddar, thank you very much.
Canned Tuna: The Fish That’s Just Too Fishy
This one might be controversial, but I just can’t stand canned tuna. The smell, the texture, the overwhelming fishiness of it all… it’s just not for me. I know it’s a pantry staple for many people, and I get that it’s convenient and affordable. But every time I open a can, I feel like I’m being assaulted by the ocean.
I’ve tried all the different varieties – in water, in oil, “gourmet” versions. But no matter what, that intense fish flavor just takes over. And the texture? It’s like someone took perfectly good fish and turned it into a sad, mushy version of itself.
The worst is when people try to disguise it in salads or casseroles. You can’t fool me – I know it’s in there, and I know I’m not going to like it. I’ll take fresh fish any day, but canned tuna? No thanks.
Black Licorice: The Candy That’s Not Candy
Black licorice is the ultimate culinary prank. It looks like candy, it’s sold with candy, but it is most certainly not candy. That anise flavor is just so overwhelming, so medicinal. It’s like someone took cough syrup and turned it into a chewy rope.
I’ve tried the “good” stuff, the imported European varieties that people swear are different. But no matter what, that flavor just doesn’t work for me. It’s like my taste buds are screaming “This is not food!” every time I try to eat it.
And the texture doesn’t help. It’s simultaneously waxy and grainy in a way that just doesn’t make sense. I’ll stick with my chocolate and gummies, thank you very much. Black licorice can stay firmly in the “no” column.
Cottage Cheese: The Curd That Shouldn’t Be
Cottage cheese is another one of those foods that I feel like I should like. It’s high in protein, it’s versatile, it’s… lumpy. Oh so very lumpy. The texture is just all wrong. It’s like someone took perfectly good cheese and turned it into a sad, curdled version of itself.
I’ve tried it with fruit, which is supposed to help. I’ve had it in salads, where the texture is less noticeable. But no matter what, those little curds just squick me out. It’s like eating cheese that couldn’t decide if it wanted to be solid or liquid, and ended up as some sad in-between.
And don’t even get me started on the smell. That slightly sour, milky odor… it’s just not pleasant. I’ll take my cheese in a more solid form, thank you very much. Cottage cheese can stay in the dairy aisle without me.
Olives: The Fruit That’s Just Too Bitter
I want to like olives, I really do. They’re a staple of Mediterranean cuisine, they’re packed with healthy fats, and they add this great briny punch to dishes. But that bitterness… it’s just too much for me. It’s like someone took a perfectly good fruit and soaked it in bitterness.
I’ve tried all the different varieties – Kalamata, green, black, those fancy ones stuffed with garlic or almonds. But no matter what, that underlying bitterness just dominates. It’s like my taste buds are being assaulted by this intense, almost medicinal flavor.
And the texture doesn’t help. That combination of soft and firm, with that pit in the middle… it’s just not pleasant. I’ll take my briny flavors from pickles, thank you very much. Olives can stay on the antipasto platter without me.
Mushrooms: The Fungus Among Us That I Can’t Stand
Mushrooms. Oh, mushrooms. I know they’re having a moment in the culinary world. They’re versatile, they’re earthy, they’re… slimy. That texture is just all wrong for me. It’s like eating a sponge that’s been left out in the rain too long.
I’ve tried all the different varieties – button, cremini, shiitake, those fancy chanterelles. But no matter what, that slimy texture just sets off all my alarm bells. It’s like my brain is screaming “This is not food!” every time I try to eat them.
And the flavor doesn’t help. That earthy, almost dirty taste… it’s just not pleasant. I’ll take my umami flavors from other sources, thank you very much. Mushrooms can stay in the forest without me.
Why Can’t I Like These Foods?
After writing all this, I started to wonder – why can’t I like these foods? Is it just personal preference, or is there something deeper going on? I did some digging, and it turns out there are actually some scientific reasons why certain foods might just never be for us.
First, there’s genetics. We know about the cilantro gene, but there are others too. Some people are just wired to be more sensitive to bitter flavors, which might explain my issues with things like olives and black licorice. There’s even some evidence that our sensitivity to certain flavors might be tied to our evolutionary history, with bitter tastes often signaling potential toxins.
Then there’s texture. Our brains are wired to associate certain textures with safety or danger. Slimy textures, for instance, might trigger associations with spoilage or decay. That could explain my issues with okra and mushrooms. It’s not just being picky – it’s actually a deep-seated survival mechanism.
And let’s not forget psychology. Our food preferences are shaped by our experiences, especially those from childhood. If we have negative associations with certain foods, those can be really hard to overcome. Maybe that’s why I can’t stand liver – it’s tied to those memories of my grandmother trying to force it on me.
So is it possible I’ll ever come around on these foods? Maybe. Our tastes do change over time. But it’s also okay to accept that some foods just aren’t for us. And you know what? That’s perfectly fine.
FAQ
Q: Is it normal to dislike certain foods even as an adult?
A: Absolutely! Our taste preferences are shaped by a combination of genetics, experiences, and biology. It’s completely normal to have foods you just don’t like, no matter how old you are or how much you know about food.
Q: Can you train yourself to like foods you dislike?
A: Sometimes, yes. Repeated exposure can help, especially if you try the food prepared in different ways. But for some foods, especially those tied to strong genetic or psychological factors, you might never come to like them – and that’s okay!
Q: Are there any health implications to disliking certain foods?
A: Generally, no. Unless you’re disliking entire food groups (like all vegetables), having specific foods you don’t like won’t impact your health. There are always other foods that can provide the same nutrients.
Q: How can I be polite when served a food I dislike?
A: The key is to be honest but kind. You can say something like, “I appreciate the offer, but that’s not one of my favorites,” or “I’m still working on acquiring a taste for that.” Most people will understand and not take offense.
@article{foods-i-still-cant-stand-a-culinary-confession, title = {Foods I Still Can’t Stand: A Culinary Confession}, author = {Chef's icon}, year = {2025}, journal = {Chef's Icon}, url = {https://chefsicon.com/food-i-hate-still-dislike/} }