cryptofascist gastronomy

At this point in my gastronomic life, I understand well which cheeses I can and cannot eat, thanks to a serious mold allergy. Soft ripened and blue cheeses are perilous for me. I haven't yet suffered any cheese-related symptoms worse than mild asthma from some gorgonzola or an irritated mouth after a camembert. Yet. I usually throw caution to the wind and eat all but the moldiest. The potential reactions are uncomfortable at best but potentially fatal in the case of severe asthma. Who wants to be remembered as "struck down in the prime of her life by a morsel of Roquefort"?
Tonight, we add Taleggio to the list of cheeses I cannot consume without risk. I really know better, I just can't help myself. The stinky fuzzy cheeses are the best. This particular taleggio had at least three discrete colors of fuzz. Deliciously creamy, with a bite, slightly asphixiating. My handy-dandy asthma inhaler saved the day again. sucks to my asthmar. When they invent the gene therapy for my allergies I'm going to throw a party with acres of stinky cheese and kittens.
Apropos noses, why is it that American fragrances are so offensive? This question comes from the pleasant suprise that I like the scent of my Italian fabric softener. In the US I don't use fabric softener because I find it noxious. Here, line-drying and very hard water makes it necessary, but the scents are light and natural. Being an allergic person and also one with a highly developed palate has made me hyper-sensitive to smells. And crypto-fascist about them: the jerk who invented Lush cosmetics should be shot. There is a store here on one of my favorite streets in Bologna that I can hardly stand to walk past, it is so foul. Fake fruit scents and heavy florals, repulsive. I could happily reside near a fish market; I want desperately to develop a taste for durian; I adore the scent of horse manure...but "strawberry" bath gel makes me want to vomit.

This all brings me to the problem of taste. I confess to profound intolerance: it is hard for me not to demote someone who proclaims a dislike for onions to untermenchen. What bothers me the most, I think, is not that people have tastes different from mine, but that they use "taste" without further explanation. How do onions feel in your mouth? What is your experience of the flavor? What memories are linked to the flavor or smell or texture? I dislike chammomile, but I am aware that this is because it became linked in my mind to illness, that the scent recalls for me the feeling of nausea. My friend Maggie can't stand egg whites - she can explain a visceral reaction that I accept without thinking less of her (also because I suspect it is an allergy). Furthermore, "taste" becomes an excuse to not learn and develop and explore. In my Inferno, the ninth circle is inhabited by the non-adventurers and closed-minded of the world.