Food aversions, or how I learned to hate quiche and bananas

With all the bodily function threads, I decided to start one of my own. When we throw up, we tend to develop an aversion to the last thing we ate before we got sick. I suppose it’s an evolutionary response.
One example that sticks in my mind is how one time (about 10 years ago) I ate quiche on a plane flying home. It tasted good but by the time I finished it, I realized I’d made a mistake. The rough weather didn’t help matters any. I spent the rest of the flight feeling vaguely nauseated, but thought I was in the clear when we landed. I didn’t make it home without hurling, though. :green-faced smiley:
Ever since then, I’ve been afraid to eat a whole slice of quiche.
Are there any foods that have been forever spoiled for you by a similar incident?

31 years ago, hours after a large T-Giving feast, I . . . expelled my dinner and it looked suspiciously like the last thing I ate, which was Pumpkin Pie.
I have never eaten Pumpkin Pie since, and will leave the room when it is served.

I once drank Far Too Much apple juice. I was really thirsty, and drank a whole pitcher basically by myself in the course of the afternoon. Complicating matters, it was made from frozen concentrate, and I realized 3/4 of the way through that I had probably added one too few cans of water.

I didn’t barf, but I was nauseated for a while. Put me off apple juice for many many years, and I still have a slight aversion, but I can now drink apple cider and the “natural” style apple juice that’s cloudy, not clear, and tastes more like apples.

Same here, except replace “quiche” with “chicken burrito.” I think it’s been about 7 years now, and I can’t stand chicken in any mexican-style dish.

I must be one of the fwe people who doesn’t care what I last ate if I throw up. One day last winter I was MEGA sick (throwing up every fifteen to twenty minutes for twelve hours, and two more days of being nauseous.) The last thing I had before I threw up was OJ, I had some kind of chicken dish my mom made the night before. I still eat lots of chicken on drink OJ.

I can’t recall this ever happening to me, but my friend ate at a questionable Chinese buffet (i.e., not properly covered, left the food too long, etc.). She hurled bean sprouts and pea pods (OUT HER NOSE :eek: ) and then cried for days because she could no longer stand her favorite food.

Once when I was a child, my parents went through a Sunkist kick during a bout of the flu that I had. (At least I think it was flu; I was nauseous for an entire week and couldn’t even place my hand on my stomach while I was lying in bed.)

Maybe they thought since it was orange, it had the vitamin C I needed. Anyway, I spent the entire week throwing up orange liquid that sometimes tasted quite the same coming out as it did going in.

I will never, ever drink an orange soda again, as long as I live.

Oh, I can’t even believe I can even think about this, let alone type the words.
When I was around 7 or 8, my Mom took my sisters and I to Friendly’s. I was evidently coming down with the flu, but didn’t know it yet. I had tuna, which they make with ‘dressing’ (i.e., Miracle Whip), not mayo.
Oh, ugh. I can’t even tell the rest of the story, but you get the idea. I can still eat tuna, but not Miracle Whip or the like.

Mine is peppermint Schnapps. When I was real young, I drank the better part of a big bottle. AAAGGHHH! I puked up my toenails! I can’t stand the smell of it now…

We went to dinner at the neighbor’s house when I was about 8 years old. They had a plate of white cubes on the table, which to my inexperienced eyes looked an awful lot like ice cream. Turned out to be cream cheese, which is an entirely different taste experience altogether. I wouldn’t touch the stuff until I was about 40.

Old Crow Bourbon: deathly ill, as in alcohol poisoning ill at age 17. The smell of the stuff will make my stomach heave even today. I tried to kill the smell of vomit and alcohol with a bottle of That Man cologne that someone had. The smell of that will also make me nauseated today.

About 10 years ago, I was relaxing after getting home from work. I flumped down on my bed on my stomach with a book and one of those individual-sized little pies that they make (snak-time or something like that.)

It was my favorite special treat. This time I had a pineapple one, usually I bought an ‘eclair’ pie, that had custard in the middle and stripes of chocolate on top.

So, anyway, I was reading my book and I took a big bite of yummy pie and chewed…



Hey, something tastes funny…


I looked at the pie. It looked perfectly normal, until I peeled up the top crust to find a thick layer of blue-green-with-gray-bits mold. It was like 1/8th of an inch thick!

It was about a year before I could walk past the display without feeling really sick… and I haven’t been able to eat one of any flavor since.

sob Goodbye, pie-ey goodness.

Wild Turkey
(shakes away the memories of an evil Thanksgiving)

and cinnamon rolls. I used to eat them every day for lunch during high school, thereby saving money for important things like cigarettes. Apparently I reached my lifetime quota, because now I can’t bear the sight of one.

I was 16, went out with friends and got totally plastered on Screwdrivers (vodka & orange). My best friend’s little brother found me passed out in the bathroom, and woke my friend’s mum. I got sent home, desperately needed a shower, and only had orange scented shampoo, which I so did not want.

Since then, I’ve had screwdrivers once, when I was still underage and my date brought a thermos of them on our picnic by the river.

Vodka in anything else (esp Bloody Marys) is great, but I have a hard time stomaching orange juice.

Onions and rye bread are pretty much ruined for me because of this. Both of those happened when I was a kid, though. I haven’t had any other “last-tasted” foods get ruined for me like this by other vomiting episodes. (My sister reported having this happen with Golden Grahams cereal, while it was Lucky Charms cereal for my husband - also both childhood incidents.)

Narrowly avoided vomiting: Breakstone makes a really yummy cottage cheese treat in little individual, divided cups. Half is the cottage cheese and the other half is some fruit preserve/jam stuff that you’re supposed to mix with your cottage cheese. I bought the blueberry one, popped it open to find mold growing on top. Evidently the hermetic sealing didn’t work so well. I tossed it and the unopened one in the trash and cannot bring myself to buy another.

Then there is the obligatory, drank too much [insert alcohol here] story. Mine was with Vodka. Cannot do shooters of any variety anymore. Mixed drinks, okay. It was the Night o’ Vodka Shots that was my downfall.

I’m also currently off salmon – got some that was a day or two too old, smelled so funny the cats wouldn’t even eat it. I took one bite, spit it out, tried to feed it to the cats. When they turned up their noses, I knew I’d better trash it. Haven’t eaten salmon since…

Most anything spearmint. The aversion isn’t from a food experience, though. There’s a biodegradeable sanitizer called Spear-O-San that we used for absolutely everything when I worked at a camp. At the beginning of one of the summers, I had to repackage the stuff from a 20-odd gallon barrel into babyfood size jars to be placed in units, vans, sent on trips, etc. I didn’t even spill much of it but can’t imagine putting anything spearmint scented / flavored in my mouth.

I suppose I should mention fried mud, … er, liver. Not that I ever once liked it and lost my desire for the stuff after hurling it to the moon. I’ve always hated fried liver and it makes me want to hurl just thinking about it. Not that I don’t adore paté and braunschweiger, love the stuff to bits. Fried liver? [insert heaving sounds >here<]

You should go back and thank the kind staff at Friendly’s for putting you off of Miracle Whip (which is neither miraculous nor whipped). That effluent is the Devil’s own spooje.

Southern Comfort


Both are double plus ungood. I’ve seriously OD’d on both (different times) and can’t stand the sight or smell of either, after forty something years.

Tortilla Española.

Berry-flavored Tums.

Both come from the same incident. When I went to Spain, we flew into Madrid and then waited around for a few hours in Atocha (the major train station) before catching our express train down to the southern coast. I had some tortilla Española, which is kind of an omlette with potatoes, and started feeling nauseous on the train, so I ate a bunch of berry-flavored Tums. My first experiences with my host family for the next few weeks involved berry/egg vomit. Joy…

Beets… can’t stand them, any part of them. Don’t want to taste them, smell them, or even look at them… or even eat anything that has touched them.
To the best of my memory, it stems from an incident when I was about 4 years old. I think I was running a fever, ate some beets and projectile vomited purple beet remains all over the dinner table (I’m suprised that I didn’t put my entire family off beets with that reaction).