When you eat something delicious, do you say it was quite palletable? Some people do. They write of their palettes (a thing which supposedly is measuring and analyzing the tastes entering their mouths). I see it written this way fairly often.
Did they stick the artist tool in there?
Or could it just be BAD SPELLING?
I haz a palate.
I haz a palate too!
Nope, no palettes in there.
Good doggies. 
………………………………………………….
From msn encarta online dictionary:
pal·ate [ pállət ] (plural pal·ates) noun Definition: 1. roof of mouth: the roof of the mouth, which separates it from the nasal cavity. It consists of a bony hard palate at the front and a muscular soft palate at the rear. 2. sense of taste: a personal sense of taste and flavor 3. aesthetic taste: intellectual or aesthetic tastes or sensibilities 4. botany part of flower: the lower projection of a flower such as the snapdragon, divided into two lips
Spelling Note
palate, palette, or pallet? Do not confuse the spelling of palate, palette, and pallet, which sound similar. A palate is the roof of the mouth, or a personal sense of taste, as in the soft palate, dishes to please all palates. A palette or pallet is a board for an artist’s paints, or the colors available on a computer display. As well as meaning “an artist’s palette,” pallet also denotes a tray on which to stack loads, a board on which to dry ceramics, a tool with which to mix clay, or a straw-filled mattress.
This calls for a mnemonic to help our spelling memory, so I’ll freshen this palate with a tasty fable that flavors many a fasting table (or ought to):
See, Paul Bunyan was just back from the River Platte and had to whomp up a few pallets of vittles for his loggers as well as some visiting pilots and Pilate vitalists. He wanted to surprise all their palates, even those lumbered with sawdust from chewing two-by-fours. To artistically color his plattered tables, Paul ordered in a trainload of artists’ palettes, paints and all; afterwards they could use them as plates.
But when the train finally arrived, the folks were so hungry they ate those palettes right off the railcars’ pallets, whether they were unpalatably plain or plaited with paint tubes or just piled-up sandwich boards.
Paul just shook his head, and decided to stick to quick pancakes for such easy palates.
Palates have not savored, palettes have not borne hues to create masterpieces, pallets have not held treasures and trunks and chests of gold to equal a seams-askew, hand-stitched Sunbonnet Sue quilt pallet, spread on the cool linoleum of Mammaw’s house, to hold its fill of giggly little girls in granny gowns.
That is a picture drawn that can be tasted and wondered at, in all its surprising wonder, rachel.