had dinner with veen at marche suntec yesterday. conclusion: salads are nice, but preferably when you have familiar, recognizable things on your plate. excerpts from last night's conversation:
me: hey what's this? *pokes scrap of brown thing on salad plate*
veen: dunno!
me: erm ok.. *puts it in mouth* hm. still dunno.
(couple of seconds later)
me: is that an onion?!
veen: yep, wanted to try it.
me: and so you took 3 of them?
veen: *does her feline grin*
me: *bites the said onion* omg this is so gross.

further conclusion: i seem quite game to try stuff.
however this hypothesis is untrue. i do not (will not, on pain of death) eat the following, and possibly other as-yet unacknowledged/ unencountered culinary disasters:
escargot/ soft-shell crabs/ kway chap
connoisseurs may bewail my decision till their delicate palates turn blue, but i don't see the point in digging out a slug from a shell. and of course i must mention my favourite theory: if it tastes like chicken, why can't we darn well stick to chicken?