Still a No

I made a meal of new dishes for dinner last Sunday. We've fallen into the trap of the same tried-and-true dishes over and over again, and I wanted to do something different. I have a great Williams Sonoma cookbook that I bought from Barnes and Noble off the sale rack when I was working there, and I'd only ever prepared the French onion soup recipe. So I made a basted chicken stuffed with zucchini, tomatoes, and fresh basil, a beet and bulgram wheat salad, roated corn on the cob, and garlic shrimp for an appetizer. It was all very good -- except the beet salad. I remember eating beets when I was younger. I don't have a lot of vivid memories from growing up, but this I remember. We were all at the dinner table at our house in Summerville, South Carolina, and my mom served canned beets. None of us, including my father, could stomach them, but since we were of the "eat a little of every dish served and clear your plate" camp, he didn't want to give in. So we sat and sat. I think all of us mixed them with applesauce to get them down, including my dad. But Wes is always noting how I claim not to like something but then find I do when I try it again. This has been especially true with a variety vegetables. So tried them again. That meal in Summerville was the last time my mother served beets. This will be my last time.