You ever know those people- the ones who like what they like, food-wise, and can’t be steered very far in some new direction?
Like taking your grandpa out for Indian food. Might not work.
My grandfather? Meat and Potatoes guy. Fought in WWII. He wasn’t gonna eat Sushi, y’know? Pizza looked a little squiffy to him. Thai? Tie what?
My dad? Tex/Mex is good. Chinese, okay… Ethiopian? Vietnamese? Maaaaaybe not.
My grandkids will probably joke that I wouldn’t ever eat reconstituted protein from the Reclaiming Unit, or lab-grown beef slab. Those li’l squits won’t have the kind of immune system my grand-dad had, though. Nosirree. He probably had antibodies that’d crawl right out of his body and attack stuff he was just THINKING of picking out of the garden and putting in his mouth.
