It will probably come as no surprise to most people that I don't like vegetables. But you probably don't understand the deep, searing, white-hot hate I have for vegetables. I hate them. Let me say it again: I hate them. I would rather eat my own face than most vegetables. True story. Bob and I were talking about it (he's in town! Yay!), and we think it probably has a lot to do with the vegetables I ate while I was growing up. The thing is, aside from White People Salad (iceberg lettuce with ranch dressing), I seem to remember them all coming from cans. Ugh. Canned, salty S&W string beans were the bane of my existence, and a big reason I am veggie-resistant to this day. Oh, and that corn, peas, and carrots frozen stuff. Yeck. Aside from less-than-savory childhood options, I also have to say that I am a texture eater. There are whole groups of food I can't (notice I didn't say won't! I mean CAN'T) eat-- eggs, guacamole, and bananas are soft foods I hate. Celery, carrots, and beets are crunchy things that gross me out. Combine all this with the year I spent in Ireland, where we ate hastily cooked veggies 6 days a week, and you will begin to understand my feelings toward all things green.
In our five years together, though, Bob has gotten me to accept some vegetables. I will eat asparagus without too much complaining. I throw hand fulls of spinach into my morning smoothie every day. I have slices of red bell pepper (but never green!) with turkey for lunch most days. I really liked the roasted cauliflower with sage salt and lemon brown butter we had two Thanksgivings ago. Brussels sprouts, however, were something I was getting nowhere near. I hate Brussels sprouts! I don't like how they taste or how they feel in my mouth. And, I'll be honest, I think they smell like farts. There, I said it.
But how things have changed. Why? Because of this recipe. Oh my sweet baby Jesus, guys. I love Brussels sprouts!!!!
They still kind of smell like farts, though.