Yup. Back when that happened I thought of my confusion. 
What I thought was I was seven and new to the states at the time.
One thing that surprised me several years ago was the number of people who thought pineapples grew on trees.
I guess their minds would really be blown if they ever glimpsed the “extraterrestrial” look of Brussels sprouts plants.
I don’t know if this really fits in with the thread, but my mum had me pretty convinced as a child that vending machines were just ads. My Dad ruined that for her by showing me you can actually buy the junk food from them.
Worst than liver? No thanks! I didn’t taste liverwurst until I was in college.
When I found out what was in morcilla I didn’t believe it because it didn’t bleed when you cut into it. I thought my uncle was trying to trick me, like when he told me spaghetti was worms when they clearly weren’t. I was very into empirical evidence as a kid.
When I was little my eldest sister told me that mayonnaise was pus. I still can’t eat it.
She then told me that yogurt was mayonnaise (therefore it was pus) with food coloring. I can only eat greek yogurt.
I know the ridiculousness of it now, but I still can’t stomach it for some reason!
OP, I also thought cheesecake was made from cheese. 
It is, either from cream cheese or ricotta.
What’s the opposite of a misconception? A conception?
Not a food misconception per se, but about the name of the food.
We were having grilled chicken for dinner one night and for some reason I was turning up my nose at it. Finally, somewhat exasperated, my Dad asked, “Would you like a drumstick?”
Now, I’m thinking the implement for whacking drums with. I’m not sure what I was going to do with only one and I didn’t have a drum handy in the first place, but that’s what I thought.
I was surprised and a little disappointed when he plunked this chicken leg on my plate.
I too was confused when offered a drumstick from my mother, I think at a Roy Rogers in PA. I’d had plenty of chicken legs by age 4 or whenever that was, but I don’t think that term had been used.
Alsatian sourkrout is a bit crunchy and sharp. Bavarian sourkrout is a bit bland and soft. They are, of course, proud of their regional variations, and everybody has a different idea about what’s right.
I can’t stand cabbage: it sets my teath on edge like chalk on a blackboard, and tastes of cabbage, so I like my sourkrout fermented farther.
We used to get “dead bee honey” from the shop. Which is to say, unfiltered, and not cooked either. I don’t care one way or the other, but the people I shared with preferred unprocessed food.
I can’t find it, but one of my most favorite ever visual gags is that scene in Gremlins II with the dessert trolly in the Canadian Theme Resteraunt…
The Simpsons always made beer look tasty and as a child I couldn’t wait to drink it.
Then I finally did. what a complete and utter disappointment. I can’t believe willingly drink this. If you haven’t tried beer yet, do yourself a favor and don’t because it’s absolutely fucking terrible
I’m nearly sixty, and I still think that. Unlike you, though, I DO want one made that way. 
For a real treat, try Philly on a toasted buttered bagel with thin slices of pepperoni. Yum-O! :o
My God, what brand did you try? :eek:
A good, cold beer is one of life’s great treats, especially on a hot summer day! 
And just to thoroughly confuse things. there’s the Indian (vegetable) “drumstick” – the celery-looking-like things pictured in the recipe: they’re in fact too tough to eat, and act only to flavour the dish.
Since I knew nothing about the mature beverage known as Scotch when younger, I of course always assumed that it tasted like sweet butterscotch candy, and that’s why people were always drinking it. I now know much better.
Glenfiddich single malt comes pretty close if you sip it neat.
I thought Scotch and soda meant Scotch and cola.
Or on toasted English muffins with green olives.
I’m told that I liked mayonnaise as a child, and would happily eat ham sandwiches slathered with it without complaint. I think it’s a dirty lie, but if not, I once had the childish misconception that mayonnaise is edible, rather than repulsive glop to be eschewed and scraped off with great vengeance and furious anger every time the dumbass cook/waiter/order-taker ignores my explicit, carefully enunciated and impossible-to-misinterpret instructions and slaps that shit on my food. Which is about twice a month, minimum.