I finished my finals on Wednesday and am home for a few days before I head back to school for Spring term. I was rummaging around for something for lunch, and came across some soup...and a bag of frozen Brussels sprouts.
My mom never served Brussels sprouts as I was growing up. I noticed how often they were bemoaned by our culture, but, not having first hand experience with them, I thought surely they couldn't be as bad as that. I've always loved vegetables, and I always thought Brussels sprouts were such beautiful ones.
So I steamed some of them with some salt and pepper and lime juice, and then tried them.
They were awful. Suddenly, I realized why people speak so poorly of the Brussels sprout. I realized where it had found its bad reputation. This beautiful vegetable--a vegetable--had deceived me.
My mom told me I couldn't give up on them until I tried them fresh. Maybe there's still hope.
2 comments:
I love them. Isn't that sick? I've never had frozen ones, but steaming fresh ones and eating them with salt, pepper, and a little butter? Delicious.
Also, fun fact: I won a "Fear Factor"-like challenge at mutual once by eating the most brussel sprouts in some given time. It is an honor that I've carried with me the rest of my life.
I am not a Brussels sprouts fan myself. Whenever I see them at the grocery store I always think about picking some up though. The logic that drives this is goes a bit like, "Well, they share their name with a European city so they must be delicious, and I must be the one doing something wrong!"
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