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I don't think there's anything I can't/won't smell or eat (although I'm still trying to appreciate the BF's love of uni), but the he hates it when I have "up and running" eggs...sunny-side up so soft that only part of the white and none of the yolk is cooked, so I put a menu around my plate until I'm finished. Also, he's anti-okra. Maybe it's the slime factor, though the uni would tend to discount that. Oh, and he HATES it when I indulge in menudo, so I only have it out in restaurants rather than cook it at home. He'd probably draw a line in the kitchen over that.

I think my southern tastes seem odd to the Californians I now live among, so most of these aren't as unusual (or distasteful!) as the people around me seem to think.

I love buttermilk; will drink it straight out of the carton, much to the dismay of the BF. Love it over cornbread with chopped onions and black pepper as a midnight snack, too.

Sushi; my friends are totally grossed out by any of it. The quail egg shooters and green mussels especially make my toes curl in happiness. There's a sushi bar in a casino in Laughlin, NV, that makes an opal roll...spicy tuna, fresh asparaus, goat cheese, and a lovely savory unagi sauce. I have to go to NV every 6 months, and it's the highlight of the 3 days I'm there. The BF loves uni; I'm still trying to get used to it. It seems cold when it should be warm; soft when it should be firm; fishy when it should be meaty. I keep trying to develop my palate for it, though!

Char-rare steak gets me many strange looks, but there's no better way to enjoy a good steak! That little rim of fat on any grilled steak IS the killer bite, as has been stated. I love tartare, too; not popular with my friends.

Eggs up and running so soft they're cooked just enough to get them back out of the pan; my family makes me leave the menu standing up around my plate until my eggs are finished so they can eat their breakfast without gagging at mine; they can't handle the uncooked whites. The bacon has to be soft and chewy, to go with the eggs. Conversely, I like my potatoes and toast brown and crispy to go with the soft proteins. BUT, I can't stomach a softly scrambled egg.

Brussels sprouts tossed with olive oil, red chili flakes, granulated garlic, s&p, and roasted to the point of potato chips on the outside; creamy on the inside.

I'm in the cottage cheese camp; also with salt and pepper, and garlic too.

Salt on my watermelon; salt and pepper on my cantaloupe. Some hispanics here eat fruit with the chili-lime sprinkle; love that too!

Velveeta, in broccoli-mushroom casseroles.

Oysters any way; put on the grill just long enough to pop them open, and slurped out of the shell with some horseradish and lemon is the best.

Crawfish, heads and all.

Pickled eggs, the spicier and garlic-ier the better. Pickled okra. Pickled beets. Pickled watermelon rind.

Stewed okra and tomatoes, over cornbread or rice or even white bread.

Oatmeal with salt and butter only.

Definitely in the calamai camp, any preparation, from sushi to fried. Same with octopus.

Although the PB and bananas (with or without the addition or substitution of mayo) and the PB and pickle sandwiches were part of my childhood as well, I have to add PB and pineapple preserves. No one else I know has ever tried it.

Sharp cheddar, kosher dill pickle, mustard and sliced raw onion sandwiches seem to be unique to me.

Garlic cheese grits (another use of Velveeta since the traditional Kraft garlic cheese rolls aren't sold here).

Grits and redeye gravy. Pretty much any grits are unknown here!

Menudo. Chitlins. Fried pork rinds.

Gin, especially in Tom Collins.

Guinness. Sadly, I'm surrounded by lite beer drinkers. I love anything dark.

Anything spicy. Horseradish, wasabi, Sriracha, cayenne, habanero, jalapeno, or serrano, and always freshly grated black pepper, make an appearance in most everything I cook. Most of my friends ask me to tone it down for them for dinners or potlucks.

All this sounds normal to me but I seem to be an oddity to my friends.

Jerzee..that's the same opinion I have of Paula Deen's sons' show...Road Tasted, i think it's called. I only watched it once; thought to myself "who the heck are these bozos related to to get a show of their own?", and never had a clue until surfing one night and ran accross the Deen family vacation show and recognized the dreadful duo. Mamma used to say "it's not what you know, it's who...".

OMG, I haven't laughed so hard in years as I did at the ranting in this thread. Diatribes on punctuation, food police, psychological syndromes, sexual harrassment, and alcohol abuse, all thanks to one recipe. Paula must be laughing her diamond-encrusted, butter swilling, slightly smarmy, half schnockered wide-glide butt to the bank! I know I am (sans bank deposit slip). Thank you, all!

Pecorino Romano, NOT parmigiano reggiano?