“I'm an acquired taste, he assured her, displaying one dimple, but addictive.”
“I know I'm an acquired taste - I'm anchovies. And not everybody wants those hairy little things.”
“I'm an acquired taste. I'm anchovies. If I was potato chips I could go more places.”
“The desire for her was a taste he had acquired with the first sip. What would become of him when he could no longer drink from her sweet well?”
“I'm not a purist. Coffee drinking minus cream and sugar is an acquired taste. I'm still not sure it isn't like telling chefs to dispense with spices in cooking.”
“Her eyes winded. "I'm becoming addicted to you?."He raised an eyebrow. "You say it like it's a bad thing.”