My brother told me once that his freshman year of college, in an effort to like beer more, he’d drink it when he returned from runs. By tasting it when he was really thirsty, he trained his body to think it tasted better than it otherwise did at the time. I tried this in high school with tomato juice. It worked.
This came to mind last night when a member of this household served me a salad before dinner. I was hungry. The salad tasted good. But would it have tasted good had I not been hungry?
This is the great question surrounding salads these days. Everyone, and I mean everyone, is asking it: Would we like salads if we didn’t eat them first?
Ultimately, it’ll take a generation to find out, and that’s if someone takes the time to force a generation to eat salad second (or third, if you’ve got another course or a side in there), which doesn’t sound like a good use of time to me, personally. Which makes me think we’ll never truly know.
Which brother?
I think it was the elder of the two.
Buried within this post is an assumption: humans are not born to like beer. Check. Yo. Self.
The similar assumption regarding tomato blood causes no objection.
Whoa, hadn’t thought of it like that.