Almond Butter, Cousin of Marzipan

Like everyone else on the planet, there are foods I find mildly distasteful, lima beans, those I dislike—olives of any color, kale—and those that, should I be served them in a restaurant or, god help me, someone's home, would have to be removed from my plate, those would be beets.

And then there's marzipan. A man-made atrocity usually associated with the holidays. A substance so vile just thinking about it makes my teeth ache and my stomach turn over. And, now I've learned, almond butter is gaining a foothold in the world of nutbutter consumers.

No.

My daughter has made it her mission in life to gain my acceptance of almond butter. Honestly, I wish she'd work on world peace or, at the very least, figuring out a way to remove Cheeto Jesus from office.

"Just taste it, " she says. "It's the best almond butter I've ever tasted!"

What does that mean? If all almond butter is revolting to me, what does being "the best" mean? The best of the worst thing? Like marzipan, only not so bad?

I'm going to go with that '80s chestnut (by the way, I love chestnuts) and "Just say 'no.'"