I like being adventurous when I go out. Aside from dishes with hard-boiled eggs, I will try just about anything. One time in Ely Nevada, we went to a restaurant in the basement of the casino. The building had been the town jail, so each booth was in a cell. All was fine except when I chose the salad course. In my mind, spinach salad was a plain affair, maybe with bacon bits. The chef, however, felt that it required my nemesis. I did my best to go around them but the flavor had passed to the leaves and the dressing. I started to feel nauseated. Finally I shoved the salad away. The waiter had a sad look on his face when he saw I had not liked the course, I half-smiled and waited for my ribs.