I don’t know what’s in the water, but I’ve been craving foods that are much maligned by children across the nation. Brussels sprouts and tuna casserole were both on the menu this week, but rather than risk losing valuable readership busting out both at once, I’m parsing this out.

The fruit stand by our house (not a farmer’s market, mind you) has a giant box of Brussels sprouts, still on the stalk, sitting out on SE 28th. I was out for a stroll last week and decided to bring a stalk home. I do love Brussels sprouts, and Scott recently admitted that ones he’d tasted didn’t disgust him (and he’d just learned about the novel stalk-growth), so I figured I’d strike while the iron’s hot.

I trimmed a bowlful of them off the stem, and started shaving them on the mandoline to make that salad in the November Gourmet. WAY too much work. I got through about 5 of them and switched gears. I just quartered the rest of them, quickly steam-blanched them and tossed them with walnut oil and salt. I incorporated the shaved bits and some finely ground almonds, and stuck the whole lot into the oven until the shaved bits and almonds were crispy-toasty brown and the sprouts had gone tender and nutty.

I never met a food I didn’t like when I was a kid, but isn’t it funny how some dislikes really stick with us as adults? Amy and Jonny’s veal liver really brought out the picky kid in a lot of foodies, and I’m sure I’ll get my share of people admitting they never liked Brussels sprouts. But isn’t part of being a grown-up the power to try doing things your own way? Roast a Brussels sprout instead of boiling it all to fuck, and tell me it’s not damn tasty.