Some people are born with anti-broccoli genes

Aha! Suspicions confirmed! People in my social circles know I’m NOT a fan of broccoli.

In fact, it’s a standing joke with a couple who are noted raisers of broccoli — I spare their names to avoid anti-broccoli hate mail.

Incidentally, hatred of broccoli is one of the issues on which I agreed with President Bush No. 41.

Until recently I simply knew I did not like the stuff. Then one of my noted retired physician friends brought to light the reason why so many of us go out of our way to avoid the nasty little florets.

An early contention was that broccoli haters were simply “picky eaters” (a charge I have tried to fend off) but now science has come to our aid.

Genetics suggests that really bright, discerning people do not care for broccoli. Actually that’s not true but I wanted it to sound good.

However, there is a compound in broccoli that not every diner can taste; it can make it bitter and basically unpalatable. Let me get technical here.

Different groups vary widely in whether people can taste the bitterness of broccoli (count me in).

With the B-word it is glucosinolate compounds, which chemically resemble phenylthiocarbamide; you’d think 12 hours of botany for a math major would have at least exposed me to this level of science.

I don’t recall my wonderful Mom ever putting broccoli on the table. Perhaps it hadn’t been introduced to South Dakota in the 1950s.

Seven of 10 of us can taste something bitter in broccoli or the phenyl stuff we shall just call PTC (I don’t get paid by the letter).

Here’s the catch. Roughly 20% of us have two copies of the bitter sensitivity gene and our bunch is likely to hate/detest/abhor the stuff — even drowned in hollandaise sauce it’s a real stretch.

Thus, if you believe in science — and I do, fully vaccinated with boosters — those folks call the gene that plays a role in how bitter we perceive certain foods HTAS2R38 (it would have been easier if they just called it Bob). It marks the way we taste cruciferous vegetables such as broccoli, Brussels sprouts (not small Belgian kids) and bok choy as bitter.

Those of us with variations in the gene I call Bob taste the unmentionables as horrible and bitter.

Those with different variations in their genes (not jeans) don’t have the same experience. There’s a lesson here. If you’re planning on starting a boutique restaurant focused on cruciferous vegetables, ask for genetic credentials at the door.

A 2014 Finnish study (apparently just finished) that aimed at variations in Bob wasn’t good for broccoli haters. The bitter taste allele in the gene may be the culprit. Notably, those with two copies of the bitter sensitivity allele consumed fewer vegetables than those entirely missing it.

At last, an explanation of why I approach vegetables in that way.

Worse yet (or better), those with the two copies consumed more sweet foods than those not advantaged.

And yet, here’s another thing you’d think would have at least been mentioned in a passing way in 12 hours of monotony/ botany. There might be a genetic reason why bitter sensitivity was important. That bitter stuff in broccoli and its nasty relatives could be a deterrent to garden pests (let them have it).

There’s a caveat: These compounds can also show up in toxic plants (no surprise there).

But, that doesn’t mean broccoli, etc. is at all toxic.

The bad taste is just a side effect.

We should recognize that there are some people without the critical gene who just don’t like broccoli. They could be suffering from the badly cooked vegetable syndrome; I didn’t realize that was a possibility.

Overcooked broccoli is mushy and disgusting — what else is new? Perfectly cooked broccoli (an oxymoron) is steamed and left slightly firm (and could then be left alone).

So, I am grateful to my retired cardiologist friend for giving my distaste for the stuff a scientific reason. No longer will my friends scoff at my skipping a sample in a buffet line.