Anything that smells or tastes vaguely like ketchup. There's just something about that sauce that disgusts every fiber of my being. I occasionally have to politely not eat when there's copious amounts of ketchup nearby. I wouldn't enjoy the food anyway, and there's the real possibility the smell might make the food not appreciate being in my stomach and seek freedom the way it came. Seriously, it's happened before.
On a lesser note, I can't stand sweet meat. I'm not much of a food connoisseur, but it seems to be an American restaurant thing, usually ribs with this kind of honey-like covering. Tony Roma's jumps to mind particularly. I mean, I can eat it just fine, but, being Spanish, there's something that makes me feel like I'm doing something morally wrong when I eat this stuff. Like this piece of meat could be being put to better use. Like being eaten without the sweet stuff that just covers its flavor up. That would be a good one.
For a while, mushrooms was another thing, mostly because there was a particular year where our family ended up bringing an average of sixteen big ones in a day from the forest, and then we'd each have to eat like half a kilo of mushrooms a day, for about half a year. It is kind of fading away now that I'm cut off from that mushroom supply by both a sea and France, and I find myself willing to forgive the mushrooms now.
