I’d never had a sprout until I stayed on a friend’s farm, when I was about 8. We had a beautiful roast lamb dinner, with mash and sprouts, broccoli and carrots. I was intrigued by the little round green things, and fully intended to eat every one — until I cut the first open and discovered the soggy carcass of a large caterpillar inside :)

That was the end of sprouts for a few decades. Fortunately, my father despised most vegetables and thought English-style cooking to be unbearable, so it wasn’t an issue through childhood (being from Slovakia, he believed meals should be served with sour cream or not at all).