Foods for Which You Have a Bad Association

Cafe Society
61

I had vomiting experiences with green apples (stomach flu) and tequila (overindulgence) that left me unable to smell either without gagging for years after. Happily, I’m now over those issues, and can drink appletinis and margaritas to my heart’s content.

But the had-nothing-to-do-with-vomiting food issue…

When I was a wee lass I apparently adored tomatoes. When I was around two, or maybe three, Mom & I were grocery shopping. Mom grabbed one of the nifty cling-wrapped four-packs of tomatoes and put it in the cart with me and then turned around to get mayonnaise. I (quite typically, you’d think) poked my little baby fingers through the cling-wrap, yanked out a tomato, and took a giant bite - all in the time her back was to me, so she turned around to see me smiling through a giant bite of un-paid-for tomato! My mom is one of those people who never ever snacks out of the bulk food bins and who actually took my sister to go confess to the grocery store manager when she stole a grape from the fruit & veg area at age six, so this was a big thing to her…and she screamed. Loudly. Scared the tomato right out of me.

I don’t actually remember this incident, but from that day to this I will not eat tomatoes, or at least not if I have to bite/chew them.

I’ll suck down V-8 and bloody marys and tomato soup, I adore pizza and spaghetti and lasagne and straight marinara sauce, but don’t give me tomato slices, chunks or bits because I will not eat them! Something about the texture is just too gross to stomach.

62

Shrimp. Made some gumbo one time in college using frozen shrimp. College was in central IL, not a big coastal town if you know what I mean.

First time I ever got food poisoning. 24 hours of unending vomiting, diarrhea, then dry heaves (from all orifices, nothing left to give). Massive muscle cramps, probably tore plenty of abdominal muscles heaving. Severe dehydration.

Roommates finally figured “Hey, Valgard is still lying on the floor, curled around the base of the toilet in the fetal position. Mebbe we should take him to the ER?”

Smell of shrimp makes me think of that day.

63

For years, every time I ate Chinese food, it triggered a killer migraine, the kind that leaves you lying in the dark, trying not to moan lest the sound rip your skull open, in between bouts of vomiting and dry heaves. It hit fast, sometimes before I even left the restaurant. I can only guess that it had something to do with MSG, in which case I could probably eat at most Chinese places safely now, but the association is so horrible that I can’t bring myself to do it.

64

“Chinese restaurant syndrome” is more likely caused by histamine than by MSG.

The short story? If in fact you are sensitive to histamines and not MSG, you will still get similar reactions by eating Chinese food even if they say it’s MSG free. Here is some info on foods that tend to have high levels of histamine.

The list also includes fish, eggplant, spinach, fruits, and certain food additives. A lot of these ingredients are common in Chinese food.

65

Liver.

When I was very young, I was forced to eat it by a babysitter.

She served it to me, and it looked like some sort of congealed something-or-other. I nudged it with whatever utensil I had, and it kind of jiggled. I smelled it, and it smelled like death.

She wouldn’t quit harping on me about it until I took three bites. I managed to gag down the bites, which sort of slid down my throat, and swore to myself that I would never ever EVER (!!) eat the nasty freakish substance again as long as I lived.

Every year, my mother-in-law makes a big batch of chopped liver pate for Passover and a couple other occasions. Everyone oohs and ahhs about it while gorging themselves on it, spreading generous amounts on crackers. I have to leave the room. I can’t stand the sight of it.

66

Chanterelle mushrooms. :frowning:

Went out to a nice restaurant with a friend. French bistro, very la di da. They had the French version of Cream of Mushroom, made with heavy cream and chanterelles.

I had lovely duck with it.

Then we went to my friend’s house to watch movies. A while later, I started feeling rather funny…

…and then I had to head for the bathroom.

Lots of projectile vomiting, diarrhea, and dry heaving. Up to that point I hadn’t thrown up in more than a decade. Lots of praying for death.

NEVER AGAIN. And I used to love chanterelles, too…

Fortunately, I still can look at duck.

67

Poppin’ Fresh Biscuits. Not other kinds of biscuits, just the canned ones. I ate a couple of those over at my dad’s friend’s house, along with pistachios and god knows what else. Got home and heaved everything up. I don’t have negative associations with pistachios, but the Pillsbury Doughboy became my enemy from that day forward.

Non-puking associated, but nonetheless nasty, to my mind: ham and beans cooking. The smell makes me retch. Always has. Actually, the cooking of any pork product makes me queasy. I don’t know why.

68

Interesting. Thanks for the info, Sturmhauke–I haven’t looked into this in years, and had no idea what the current thinking on the subject was. I would have expected a rash (like the case mentioned in your quote) or some sort of swelling from a histamine-based reaction, though, and I never noticed such symptoms. I’m not wedded to the idea that MSG was responsible; however, having been migraine-free for years now, I have no desire to risk revisiting the pain of my youth just to pinpoint the cause.

69

Ugghh
I’ll say it again.

Ugghhh!

My sad sad story…

When I was wee one, I loved these things. They were practically the only candy I would eat.

Then, one dark, cold, snowy night all that changed.

It was New Year’s Eve 1984, 11:58pm. I was 13 days and 2 minutes from turning 5. My mother and two older sisters were outside on our porch. Our apartment was at the top of a very large hill, right next to the even larger hill where the fireworks display was. So, we had a perfect view without ever leaving the comfort of our own porch. I should have been asleep. But, alas, even then I was afflicted with insomnia.

I had a stuffed rocking horse. I loved my rocking horse. It was bright pink.
We had a bunk bed. My oldest sister got the top bunk and my middle sister got the bottom. At that time, I was sleeping on a pile of blankets on the floor - as we were too poor to afford another bed. Even the bunkbed was a gift from some local charity.

Anyway, in my sleepy but awake daze (something I am suffering from even now, at this very moment), I thought it would be a good idea to put my rocking horse on the bunk bed. On the top of the bunk bed.

I haven’t a clue how I got it up there. I know it didn’t take me long because I heard the fireworks start just as I sat on the rocking horse.

The next thing I knew, it was 12:30 or thereabouts, January 1, 1985. I was sitting on a chair in the center of the kitchen. My head hurt. Oh, it hurt so bad. Even now, I don’t remember what happened in that 30 minute blackout, but I do remember the pain.

You are probably wondering what the hell this has to do with those nasty candies.

Well, my middle sister knew that I loved them. In her 6 year old wisdom, she thought it would make me feel better if I ate some. She brought me a bowl. It was almost overflowing with the pastel goodness. I took one look at the bowl and started throwing up. I didn’t stop throwing up for over an hour. Actually, for the next 3 weeks, I threw up quite regularly. The mints did not actually cause the puke fest. The badly fractured skull did that. But, the smell stuck with me as being the last thing my senses took in, right before my stomach gave out.

I ended up in the hospital. In fact, I was the first patient admitted to Hannehman Hospital in the year 1986. This was the first of many many visits to this hospital. I think the head injury actually caused my lack of grace (it can’t be natural) and I used to get hurt a lot.

I got the full story (well, the story starting 20 minutes after I lost consciousness) from my mother.

I did successfully get the rocking horse on the top bunk. I did start a-rocking. I did fly over the safety bar on the nice big wooden bunk bed. I did land on my head. I did in fact land on GI Joe. My mother and sisters came back in the house around 12:20 and my sisters found me on the floor. At that point, they thought I was sleeping. Since I slept on the floor anyway, it wasn’t a really big shock to anyone. But, when they couldn’t wake me, they started to get worried. Even then, I was a very light sleeper - assuming I get to sleep at all.

So, the outcome of the whole thing…

  1. I actually taught myself how to stop puking. I am now 27 years old. Since that fateful night, I have thrown up ONCE. I can’t even force myself to puke. Oh, I can gag. I have a very sensitive gag reflex. I gag myself just by brushing my teeth. But, no matter how much I’ve gorged myself, or how sick I am, I can’t throw up.

  2. I still get bad headaches, right along the line where my fracture was.

  3. I still don’t remember those 30 minutes before I woke up on that chair in the kitchen.

  4. I hate GI Joe.

  5. I hate the color pink.

  6. I dislike rocking horses.

  7. I dislike heights.

  8. I am petrified of bunk beds. I went through hell for a few years when I was in foster care as bunk beds are the preferred sleeping apparatus for people with overcrowded houses. I would frequently wait until everyone was asleep and then go sleep on the bathroom floor. The night of my middle sister’s wedding, I had to sleep on a bunk bed. I was 25. My oldest sister had her toddler with her so I would not allow her to sleep on the top with him. I did not sleep that night. I lay on my side, pressed up against the wall, with a bunch of pillows and blankets acting as a barrier between me and the side of the bed (no safety rail). I refused to sleep on the floor though because I didn’t want my sister to trip over me if she got up in the night (the room was very small).

  9. I have an everlasting disgust for these mints. The smell, appearance, and feel of these mints make me gag. Even the box makes me wince. Finding the link at the top of my post was quite painful for me.

When I was 23, my sister bought me a tin for Christmas. I had never told anyone about my aversion to these mints. You can bet your ass I told her shortly after receiving that gift. I was afraid of hurting her feelings. I was more afraid of these mints. No one in my family will buy them anymore, for my sake. My boyfriend must have told his family because they stopped buying them at Christmas after that year.

Oh, and the one last time I ever threw up has a story too - one related to this one.

When I was 8, I finally got a bed. My mom had just graduated from college, started a full time job, and moved us out of that crackhouse apartment to a nicer crackhouse apartment. In her defense, she didn’t know they were crackhouses and the crackheads were very nice to us.
Anyway, my bed. It was beautiful. It was a plain metal frame but it had a red velvet headboard. My mom bought it at the Salvation Army. She even got me mattresses. Well, a box spring. She couldn’t afford the top mattress. I got new sheets and a new pillow too. She bought this with her first paycheck from her new job. Even the pillow was special. It was covered with white sheep but had 1 small black sheep right in the center. I loved it so much that I didn’t use a pillowcase because I didn’t want to cover the black sheep.
About 1 year after I got this wonderful gift from my mom, we had a huge party for my sister’s 10th birthday. I gorged myself. I REALLY gorged myself. Candy, cake, soda, chips, and lots of ice cream. Did I mention the lactose intolerance?

Well, that night, I threw up for the last time. I was alseep at the time. I threw up all over my sheepy pillow and my pretty red headboard. Both were a total loss. The bed frame got moved to the second bedroom and my sister got the second bedroom because she was the oldest. For the next 3 years, I rarely slept because I got demoted to the bottom bunk. I was terrified that the bunkbed would collapse and I would be crushed.

Geez, after reading over that, I’m surprised that I’ve always wondered why I have so much trouble sleeping.

In conclusion… despite the fact that this was all initially caused by my insomnia, I choose to blame the lasting trauma on those nasty disgusting little mints.
Aren’t you sorry you asked? :smiley:

70

They look pretty nasty just from the picture. I like mints, but there has to be some bare minimum of quality.

71

When I was a kid, we were allowed to buy a snack in the school cafeteria after we had eaten all our lunch. A lot of kids did this all the time, but I never had any pocket money. (cue tiny violin) Other kids would sometimes give me some of their special treats, and in this way I determined that the tastiest thing ever was Funyuns, some kind of greasy, crunchy, onion-flavored munchies. Finally the day came when I scraped together the thirty cents or whatever, and bought my Very Own Bag. I enjoyed a few of them at lunch, then decided to save the rest for later. I put them deep down in my backpack and kept them until the end of the day, when I was riding home on the bus. Let me tell you, the only way to make a greasy, crunchy, onion-flavored munchy any nastier than it already is, is to heat it up in a backpack for several hours and eat it on a schoolbus. (cue barfing)

I am also unreasonably prejudiced against cinnamon rolls and Little Debbie cakes, because I ate one or the other of these things just about every day of my high school career. They were the cheapest things in the lunchroom, and I was saving the bulk of my lunch money to buy cigarettes.

72

I’m sickened by pork, too, but I didn’t mention it because I really don’t have a bad association-- I just hate the stuff. The smell, texture and flavor are gag-inducing to the point where if I had to make a choice with a gun to my head of whether to eat pork or roadkill, I’d have to sit down and think it over.

73

It’s not a food per se, it’s a flavor. Artificial cherry flavor to be specific. My mom always got cherry-flavored medicines and those nasty cough syrups. So thanks to Vicks 44D I can not enjoy even a whif of cherry flavoring without shuddering. Actually, I’ve been shuddering just thinking about it.

74

Definitely MSG. I can always tell when a restaurant uses it.

75

Sweet pickles. My friend’s mom mixed them into the tuna salad we were eating when I was about 8 or so. It made me so sick later that it took me a long time to start eating tuna again. I never ate another sweet pickle.

and double chocolate silk pie, specifically from Coco’s. Too, too rich. Nauseating.

76

Pasta Salad

One year after school ended, my friend and I decided that rather than let our summer subletters drink up all our booze, we’d do it ourselves. My friend was particularly indiscriminating about how she mixed the dregs of several different bottles. “It’s a Frangelico-Midori-Vodka shot!”

Pasta salad was what I had for dinner that night. And then a whole bunch of midori. Now I can’t have pasta salad OR midori.

77

Yes, I know this thread is a zombie. But I found it while looking for something else, and am moved to make my own reply.

For me it’s meat with any kind of fruitsauce.

It happened on a family road trip, while we were in New Mexico. I had some ham with cherry sauce, a fairly common combo. It tasted awful though, the sauce that is, and I couldn’t keep eating it. My dad thought I was being finicky, although he should have known I ate almost anything. except liver. I kept protesting I didn’t want to eat it so Dad tasted it, made a face, and said “It is bad!” and didn’t make me finish it.

I didn’t get sick, but the bad taste stayed in my mouth. To this day I can’t eat any kind of meat/fruit combination. No pineapple and ham pizza, no mint and lamb even. Although mint isn’t actually a fruit, the sauce is usually sweetish.

78

Tommy burgers. Serious food poisoning.

79

That is a sad story indeed. :frowning:

After reading this whole thread, I think I’m just going to give up food.

80

Pizza Rolls.

I was fairly healthy growing up, and to this day I can only remember being sick and vomiting a few times, but one round of the flu after having Pizza Rolls and I’ve never eaten them again. For a long time, I was also very reluctant to eat anything that had hidden insides.