Two years ago I made brussel sprouts for dinner. They were disgusting. Really. They were soggy little balls of nastiness. The wastefulness of edible, thrown-out food, especially if I had to prepare it, really irritates me. I just couldn't hold the usual "Clean your plate before you get any more food" line this time. They were so gross. We all threw them away. Fast forward two years. The boys saw brussel sprouts in the produce aisle, and the little green balls captured their imaginations. How can you tell your kids "No, we can't get brussel sprouts. They're gross." I think that gets you some kind of mommy demerit. Plus last time they were frozen. Maybe fresh brussel sprouts are completely different.
So we bought them. I took the first bite. Initially it tasted like cabbage with a little pop of salt and pepper. I had just enough time to briefly meditate on what an awesome mom I am for raising kids who will eat brussel sprouts and mentally draw up a plan for buying brussel sprouts every other week for my extremely healthy family. Then the aftertaste got me like a dog who walks by nonchalantly and then turns and bites you on the ankle for no reason, and I realized that brussel sprouts are always, always gross.
The cheapskate in me decided to puree them and foist them off on the defenseless baby, and now I know that there is something grosser than brussel sprouts - pureed brussel sprouts. (He loved them - flapped his little arms and legs begging for more.) Thirty minutes later I discovered that it gets grosser still - pureed brussel sprout spit-up.