The first time I drank miso soup was around 20 years ago. It was in a nice and cozy Sushi bar in Milan. 
That was my first experience with Japanese food, and I remember that I didn’t like the miso soup.

Nowadays, I would probably drink a good miso soup every time of the day. Looking back I think that miso soup was actually good, but I wasn’t accustomed to the flavors of the Japanese cuisine.
It took me some time to feel comfortable with their nuances, their difference in taste and in the structure of food, but I was eventually sold.

Now, when I look back at that memory I don’t feel, nor I don’t remember, to have had a bad experience. It was good, even if I didn’t like it.
Food plays a big role in how our memory works. Some foods are like perfumes, they are “comfortable” because they remind us of a warm, protective place. 

They’re usually food that we link to a specific memory or moment in time, frequently from our childhood. 

The beauty of this is that we cannot force this experience. We don’t have a way to make a food “enter” the realm of those calm, warm foods that hug us like nothing else. It happens. It happens through life, it happens through fate. We can only embrace that warm feeling every time we eat, or smell, some of those food/perfumes.