I've never been a picky eater, even as I child I was pretty adventurous. Raw oysters, rare steaks, I even remember eating turtle soup with my grandparents. There is only one thing that I recall being really turned off by and that was borscht. I think it had something about the bright fuchsia color and the old people connotations.
During the snow storm last week I was looking through a Russian cookbook and decided it was time to give borscht another chance. It turned out wonderfully, the combination of beets, cabbage and braised beef finished with sour cream and dill was perfect. Nothing like the pink sludge of my childhood.