Five Vegetables I Used To Hate, But Now I Love. . .

It's funny how taste changes as we age. My parents used to have a rule that I had to at least try everything on my plate. The idea is a good one. Studies show that it can take up to five exposures before a child will accept a new food. I, however, was a particularly stubborn thing and would insist I didn't like the thing (whatever the thing) even after tasting it, no matter what my true opinion. From there I got entrenched in my stance to a point that sometimes I think I convinced myself that I really didn't like the food.

Later on after college, I decided to revisit these deeply entrenched "hatreds." Some, I still don't care for (okra, for example) but some are now on my go-to veggie list:

1. Winter Squash - Apparently when I was really little, I'd eat mashed winter squash by the quart. I'd just suck it down and ask for more. Then one day I completely flipped around and refused to eat any more from that day forward. Oddly, I actually remember (or think I remember; I couldn't have been much older than 4 or 5) what caused the flip. I was at my grandparents' condo and my grandmother had heated up some frozen mashed squash. I remember the vivid orange color and slightly stringy flesh. I remember it smelled so good. Then I took a bite and it tasted like plastic and, no matter what I drank or ate, I just couldn't get the taste out of my mouth. From that day forward, no one could get me to eat the stuff. In hindsight, I think the frozen squash had gotten freezer burned. I tried it again after college. I just roasted a butternut squash in the oven with a little butter. It was divine. Now I'm back to slurping the stuff down. I roast it, stew it; I'll even steam it. Great stuff. Totally worth wrestling with the rock hard skin and all the swearing that ensues.
2. Olives - As it turned out, I never really disliked olives because I'd never really tried them. All I'd had as a kid were those rubbery little rings that came out of cans and called themselves olives. They were so bitter and disconcertingly springy between my teeth that I couldn't choke them down. I was in college when I had my first properly treated kalamata. It was a revelation. Sure there was a little bitterness hiding in the background, but overlaying that bitter taste was a beautiful rich, salty, silken flesh. From there I went on to try many other types of olive and appreciate their varied characteristics. It's a tragedy that it took me so long. Not that my step-father, Mike, didn't try. He and mom used to buy these massive glass jars of kalamatas. I bet those were pretty good olives. Better late than never, I suppose.
3. Avocados - Back in the 80's and 90's avocados just weren't that common in Michigan. So, what I really didn't like was that horrible insipid green mush that Mexican restaurants in Detroit called guacamole. Later on, I had the opportunity to eat a fresh avocado in Costa Rica, but I couldn't get past the awful green mush experience and refused to even try. I really am quite the idiot sometimes. I'm not sure what changed my mind. I think fresh avocados just became more omnipresent and so I eventually got over my green mush problem. I even like guacamole now, but I'm pretty picky about who makes it.
4. Brussels Sprouts - Just ask my in-laws about my brussels sprouts recipes. Brussels sprouts have almost become my "thing." Which is kind of hilarious considering that I once got grounded to my room on account of brussels sprouts. I'd snuck them off my plate during dinner, wrapped them oh-so-carefully in a napkin, and hidden them under the table in a little cubby created by the trim connecting with a support oddly. My father found them while cleaning up after dinner and just like that, I was sitting in the disaster area I called a room. As I recall, I started cleaning my room out of utter boredom. In my defense, boiled brussels sprouts are just awful. I roast them in olive oil and garlic. Some times I braise them in coconut milk. Occasionally, I shred them and eat them raw with pecans and blue cheese. Much better.
5. Beets - In all fairness, it's not that I didn't like beets, it's that I didn't like my dad's borscht (sorry Dad). Beets weren't very present in my childhood. They came in two forms: super sickly sweet pickled out of a can and dad's borscht, both of which I hated.  Later on, one of my roommates went through an ill-advised Russian cuisine kick and I discovered what beets tasted like roasted simply in foil like a potato. Divine! I've been a beet convert ever since.