Tesco's lemon-and-elderflower water, for example, tastes, to me, like washing-up liquid.
The sea scallops, for example, tasted only of the bacon that wrapped them.
A housefly, for example, tastes the usual salts and sugars of household wastes.
A very ripe peach, for example, tastes sweet but it also smells sweet — which is a very different aspect of sweetness.
His octopus appetizer, for example, tasted like a grownup version of the flame-grilled hot dog — wistful, witty, a ballpark recollected in tranquillity.
The company's Italian pork roast, for example, tasted fine in the lab, but after a large production run at the plant, workers decided that it was too salty and that the fennel and coriander on the roast overpowered the natural taste of the pork.
The 1998 riesling, for example, tasted more of lemon and less of pears and apples than the unusually round, full-bodied 2000; the 1997 chardonnay had plenty of breadth and butterscotch, but not as much length and finesse as the European-style 1995.
Del Maguey Chichicapa, for example, tastes completely different from another Mezcal made nearby.
For example, taste buds occur on the lips, the flanks, and the caudal (tail) fins of some species, as well as on the barbels of catfish.
Using roughly the same technique, you can make butternut-squash soup, for example, taste as if it came from the Mediterranean (or Latin America or Asia) by tweaking just a few ingredients.
