Last night I realized I liked brussel sprouts.
Long have I hated them, much to my significant other's dismay. He's cooked them twice before and I have deemed them palatable, if not exactly tasty. This means I have eaten them and almost been successful at not making the brussel sprout face, but not quite. This scares me because if we have children, I know that they will inevitably inherit the brussel sprout face from me and when it inevitably shows up, Justin will be all, SEE?
But last night, I went back for seconds of brussel sprouts. The trick is to make them brown, cook them in something acidic (vinegar? lemon juice? what did he use?) and after steaming them, saute them with bacon. That is the power of bacon. It can make me like brussel sprouts. The fact that we bought the brussel sprouts still on the stalk (or tree!) at the North Market on Saturday might have helped as well.
In other news, I am (finally) nearing the finish line of the lace scarf I am knitting for a birthday present. Because we are going to visit friends in Chicago this weekend, it mist be blocking by Friday night so as to be given on Sunday. It's very pretty, but I am looking forward to being done with (intricate) lace patterns for a while. It's only 10 lines, and only 5 real lace lines and I am 21 repeats into the pattern and I haven't memorized it yet. I can remember my friend Jackie's phone number in the 2nd grade, but not this damn lace pattern. Go figure.
