On the spectrum of picky eaters, I was the pickiest of picky pickers as a child. You’re talking to someone who used to refuse to eat the ends of hot dogs, hated the skins on apples, and basically survived entirely on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
My mom tried all the things to get me to eat (her methods are worth a post of their own) and is now very surprised that not only do I work in food media, but I also always order the chicken liver and I’m willing to try anything at least once.
I’m a grown-up now (when did that happen?) and have a very different palate than the one 10-year-old me had. I’m a much better eater and even opt for salads several times a week. The old (young) me? She’d only eat salads if there was this one thing on top.
Mom Envy Blog 