Much of the food in my home consists of many different types of fermented dishes.
Fermented cabbage, fermented soy paste, and fermented all-sorts-of-leaves-and-wild-shoots.
Umma would spend the entire day making the dishes, only to put them away in jars, left untouched until they had reached full season.
In due time when the food was taken out of the jar to be plated, its distinctive stink would saturate the house's air, warmed and dampened by the steam from the rice cooker.
No, it's not repulsive. In fact, it's quite the opposite.
Well, that's all totally subjective, to be fair.
Yeah, home is—in every sense of the word—subjective.
Inviting to familiars but inhospitable to the foreigner.
I guess it really is impossible to please everyone.