I went to a restaurant with my grandson, and there was a small round piece of fruit in the salad. Using my fork, I picked it up, held it out and asked him if he wanted it.

“Don’t you like kiwi?” he asked.

“So that’s what you call that,” I told him, turning the green piece of fruit around.

I’ve never eaten a kiwi. I’ve seen it plenty of times, but I never wanted to admit I didn’t know what it looked like or that I’ve never eaten one.

It’s not the only fruit I’ve shied away from.

I’ve never eaten papaya until my son’s girlfriend cut one up in the kitchen the other day. I never would’ve guessed such a pretty color fruit was encased in an ugly outer shell and filled with about a thousand black seeds.

The truth is, I’ve never been an adventurous eater. People are surprised by that admission because my dad was a Cajun.

People from Louisiana are known to eat almost anything – alligator, turtle, and, the most disgusting, fried frog’s leg.

“It’s delicious,” people will say, holding up something that looks like fried chicken.

“Then you can have it,” I’ll say as I recoil in horror, the same as I do when someone waves a raw oyster in front of my face. I’m sure they’re delicious, just as I’m sure a glob of snot is delicious.

There’s a few other things on my list.

I’ve never eaten a beet, turnip or parsnip. I’ve heard they’re all delicious, but I’ll stick with potatoes, green peas and corn.

The only reason I’ve tasted snail is because a chef at a Cajun restaurant shoved one in my mouth when I was opening it to say “No thanks.”

They can call those slimy things escargot all day long, but a snail is a snail is a snail.

I also don’t like buttermilk. That one, I tasted and thought I was going to spew it all over the kitchen table. The only reason I didn’t was because I caught the look on my mother’s face, the look moms give that says “don’t you dare.”

I think I’m justified in this regard. I read a recipe that said if you don’t have buttermilk, add vinegar to regular milk and watch it curdle.

And you want me to drink that?

No thanks.

I love a good steak, but there’s no way I’m eating cow tongue or any of the intestines, often called “tripe.” See my comment above about snails and escargot.

The same “no way ever” holds true for chicken gizzards and the kidneys from any barn yard animal.

I’ve also never eaten collard greens or kale and they’re not on my “Things to do in 2023” list. The same goes for Spam and Vienna sausages.

And even though I’m a Cajun, I’m not going to try sushi. I remember baiting the net to catch crabs and crawfish when I was a young girl.

Knowing sushi is raw fish makes me think we should be getting a prize at the end, like a crawfish boil.

The same goes for anchovies – tiny fish with the heads still attached – and bell peppers. I pick those off if I see them, but they always leave a nasty after taste.

Just so you don’t come away from this column thinking I’m a food snob, there are some candies I don’t like.

Easter Peeps in all colors and candy corn are at the top of the list. Right underneath those are black licorice, dark chocolate and circus peanuts.

All disgusting.

Some people might say I’m a picky or fussy eater. I’ll rename and classify my eating habits with another name that sounds more cultured, just as the snail and escargot people do – I’m choosy.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.