I am a seafood lover, but this has not always been the case. As children growing up in New England, my younger brothers and I were served swordfish on a regular basis. This may sound luxurious, but in those days, swordfish was a local staple harvested from the nearby Atlantic waters, and my mother was determined to serve us fish in the spirit of a well-rounded diet. Swordfish night was not a popular event. I confess that we took drastic measures to choke down our dinner. Since it was effectively a prerequisite to our desired dessert, my brothers and I often resorted to dousing our swordfish steaks in ketchup (as the eldest, I take full responsibility). Mercifully, when information about mercury levels in swordfish became more widely known, it suddenly disappeared from our dinner rotation. We were not upset. As my interest in food grew, I outgrew my categorical aversion …