Here’s one thing I won’t eat: Brussel Sprouts.
I never really remember having to eat brussel sprouts when I was growing up. I know that my mom planted them in the garden one year, but I don’t remember ever actually eating them. I do know that she never grew them after that.
A few years ago I figured out why. AJ and I were in the grocery store trying to think of an interesting vegetable to pair with a steak, (new york strip for those of you who wonder about that sort of thing) and we came across Brussel Sprouts.
“Have you ever had Brussel Sprouts? I haven’t.”
“No, I wonder what they taste like…a cabbage maybe?”
We took a whole bag of those cute tiny cabbages home, steamed them to perfection and served them with butter and seasonings alongside our steak.
First bite: Involuntary gag.
Second bite: dutiful chewing.
Third bite: spat into the napkin.
Here’s what I’ve always wondered since then; is there a scenario where brussel sprouts taste good? All you vegetable-haters can keep your comments to yourselves here–I love vegetables in all shapes and sizes…except small, round, green, and leafy.
