Ha! I’m back. And I have a new co-conspirator.
There’s something about the brassica family that generally doesn’t agree with me.Maybe it’s the sulfury notes of broccoli or Brussels sprouts. Or perhaps it’s the bitter flavor of underprepared kale that burns me. Maybe it’s just the general consistency of the brassicas that sends me running and screaming.
Whatever you call it, don’t call me late to eat brassicas – because there is no late on “never.”
I come from a family so (Euro)diverse that it’s probably best that I just check “American” for ancestry on my census form. There’s a fair amount of Italian, Danish and Irish, plus sprinkles of English, Welsh and who knows what else thrown in the mix.