Matt

“it thoughtfully around her mouth. Up in the camps, they’d distilled every rotten vegetable they could get their hands on, but she’d still never tasted anything worse. Swallowing was against her every instinct. Afterwards, she could hardly breathe. “What the hell’s it made from?” she croaked. “A secret more closely guarded than the colour of Queen Terez’s underclothes. It’s an acquired taste.” “Why would anyone want to acquire that taste?” Vick found she was taking another sip, shuddering as she swilled it around her mouth. “Strange, isn’t it? You keep having to check how disgusting it is. Then, one day, you check and you find you actually like it. Soon after, no other drink will quite scratch that itch.”
― Joe Abercrombie, The Trouble with Peace