Slime Balls aka baby cabbages aka Brussell Sprouts

I have a very distinct memory of growing up and my mom occassionally putting something on the table that we were forced to try and had to finish before we left the table. The one food that sticks out in my memory is the night that my mom bought frozen brussell sprouts and boiled them. Then FORCED my sister and I to eat the Slimey balls that they were.

As I remember the Brussell sprouts were slimey balls that tasted NASTY! They were so repulsive that my mom admitted that she would never make us eat them again. My mom was a fair player-- as long as we had to endure the slimey balls she had to try them also. And from what I remember she was not too happy with the slimey balls that frozen brussell sprouts turned out to be.

I suppose my mom had an ulterior motive in making us try the brussell sprouts. In fact, growing up I always remember her saying "you at least have to try it, because some day you may be in someone's house and they might bring you something to eat that smells weird or tastes awfull and you have to be polite and eat it." Little did I know in the middle of eating nasty slime balls that my mom's wisdom would ring true. However, years later when I was in India I realized my mom's wisdom. For the most part I loved Indian food. However, there were rare occassions when I would be at a friend's house and offered fried goat's blood, or when I bit down on a cardomom seed ( which makes your mouth feel like it is being turned inside out). My reaction was usually strong. But I had a little voice in my head that sounded like my mom telling me I had to try it.

Now years after the traumatic slime ball incident I find myself walking through the farmers market and take a special effort to try new things that I have never had or trying things that I have bad memories of as a child. As my mom always reminded me as a child "you never know, your taste buds may have changed." ( ironically I find myself saying the same thing to friends that refuse to eat certain vegetables and my 16 year old brother that is one of the pickiest eaters I know)

In walks the Brussell Sprout

I have recently re-discovered a love for the brussell sprout, (not of the slime ball inclination but fresh farm picked sprouts). I take them home, wash them, halve, and toss with olive oil and salt and pepper. Then I roast them in a 350 oven.

I have recalimed the brussell sprout and now love them.

Thanks mom for teaching me to try new things!

Next mission is to convert my mom back to the brussell sprout. ( everytime I tell her I am making them she cringes, laughs, and then reminds me of the slime ball incident.)