When I was a wee lad in Wednesfield, I attended a "nursery school" that served liver and onions every Friday, and every Friday I reported to my baffled parents that I hated the "acky bnack stuff."
"Ask the teacher what the stuff is," my parents told me. Then we can ask if there's something else you could have.
The next Friday I came home and told them excitedly I'd discovered the name of the hated acky bnack stuff.
"It's called niver!"
On the other hand, I loved a dessert none of my classmates liked: treacle pud and custard.
Once I ate all of my table mates' portions and threw up on the teacher.
Good times.