I didn't outgrow a lot of my picky eating until I was in college, and then in my 30s I was willing to try things I had never tried before (Indian food, Thai food, sushi, any Chinese other than sweet and sour chicken all scared me, which is funny to me now since they're all favorites). Part of it is that my tastes changed, and part of it is that I learned ways to prepare food that I previously didn't like in other forms.

I would always try anything and liked almost everything. This was not good for my figure, but I certainly enjoyed food. The current chemo makes everything taste weird. Sweets taste metallic; bitter things taste more bitter; most things are too salty; and things like yogurt and sour cream taste like they've gone off. Whine, whine, whine. On the other hand, I've lost 25 pounds.

I was a fairly picky eater as a kid, but some of that was texture issues, some was my mom's no-fresh-vegetables-when I-can-reheat-them-out-of-a-can approach, and some was things like broccoli and squash that taste great now but were awful to my factory settings tastebuds.

Once some relatives introduced me to Chinese food and I started trying more exotic places on vacations, I found that I liked a wide variety of foods.

I am informed that the chicken gizzards were not delicious. (I think it was at a Japanese place, the kind that specializes in Japanese bar snacks.)

Ah, I got a whole table full of Minnesotans to try grilled chicken livers by ordering that as an appetizer at such a place and letting them smell how much better it was than their own choices.

I was a finicky kid who grew up pretty adventurous in terms of flavors and cuisines, but with a few remaining no-go foods and textures. I've learned to like fish if it's very fresh, especially the meatier-textured varieties like trout and salmon, but I still don't like sushi because of the squishy raw fish texture. Zucchini and eggplant are also on my too squishy to bear list, and brussels sprouts have to be cooked just so. And I've never acquired a taste for beer.

Hubby adored chicken hearts. He'd get skewers-full at the Brazilian place. I couldn't eat them because it was such a blatant display of how many chickens died for my dinner. I have no trouble with the food chain and where my meat comes from, I've been in small-scale meat processing places. But a skewer of 30 chicken hearts is a bit . . . oppressive. Eating bits of grilled chicken breast lets me spread the guilt out among lots of people.

Plus I don't trust the texture. Texture and bitter are my no-gos with food.

I liked food a lot more once I realized that my grandmother and my mother were horrible cooks. In very different ways. My grandma was the main cook and she lived through the depression and hated cooking. Plus we were poor and my grandpa was Archie Bunker in his detestation of any ethnic food, though mostly Italian. My mother could follow a recipe but could and cannot put together a menu, and she over cooks everything. My family also are a lot of things like potato flakes, minute rice, etc. My grandpa who hardly ever cooked made really good soups and salads.

My grandmas recipes were actually pretty sound, though, once you cared about what you were doing and fixed the lumps in the white sauce and seasoned things.

Speaking of food, I just saw a picture of the menu of a restaurant called Golden Crab House that just opened not far from me. One page is designated "Fried Food" and the other page "Garlic Food." I may have to try some garlic food.

Mmm, garlic food.

Heh. Garlic food. I like it.

The only food I just couldn't try was tongue. I was sixteen at the time. I feel like I could do it now. Probably.

I was at a large ethnic supermarket last month and saw beef lips in the meat department. Much as I believe in using every part of the animal possible...I really wish I could unsee that. I don't know how large an amount of money it would take to get me to try them. (If they're in my hot dogs, just hush, please).