Reading these, I realize how strict a household I grew up in. There was one and only one food rule: "You will eat what is put before you." No choice whatsoever. We didn't even get to serve ourselves. Our plates were assembled for us with a protein, a starch, and a vegetable. Even if we hated it enough to throw up, there would be no leaving the table until our plates were clean and our glasses of milk drained. Only then were seconds or dessert allowed, if we wanted them. The adults adhered to the same rule out of their own free will, but we kids spent many a tearful dinnertime choking down things we hated.

As an adult, I'm a very picky eater with a narrow range of foods I like. Little wonder. Take me to a Vietnamese restaurant and watch me make a meal out of fried spring rolls because it's the only thing on the menu I like. I would have to be shot in the head before sushi could be forced into my mouth. It's a shame, really.