When the Scydian ambassador accepted an invite to dinner, it caused quite some consternation amongst the culinary world.

After all, we did not wish to confess our total ignorance of their culture and tastes, and it would seem somewhat gauche to infer personal preference from biological data collected during the brief - but bloody - conflict following the botched first contact with our fellow space-faring species.

When the day came, the gathered chefs held their breath as the Scydian drew themselves up to the table and took their first bite of human food: a delicately constructed canapé.

They chewed once, twice, three times, with an expression which on a human would be considered thunderous.

Then they paused, rumbled, opened a second, subordinate mouth and replaced the canapé on the plate, somewhat worse for wear.

“Forgive me,” their translator rumbled. “Gastrointestinal diagnostics suggest that this,” they gestured to their plate, “contains an ingredient with an eight percent chance of cross-species immune reaction.”

A moment of awkward silence, then the ambassador rumbled into speech once more.

“Please, I would like to try all the flavours of your culture. Perhaps one of them will be both delicious and non-lethal.”