Brussel sprouts: Little green balls that I despised. Vegetables at my house were part of every meal. I ate most of them but the green ones sometimes got to me. I was fine with green beans, peas, and even broccoli, but don’t dare put spinach on my plate or come near me with cabbage, and forgetaboutit…no brussel sprouts for me!
I remember many nights sitting at the round table in our kitchen in the corner. My mom made me sit there until I ate my veggies. “They will help you grow strong and healthy.” She wasn’t too terrible. She was willing to give me a pass if I just took a few nibbles. She was gracious but I was stubborn. I REFUSED to give in to her UNTIL the one night her idle threats turned into the real deal.
I was eating a dinner that I had to have because I didn’t like what she was making for everyone else. It was actually almost sacrilegious in our house, but it was a TV dinner…those yummy in my tummy easy peasy boxed dinners. You put them in the microwave and in no time you are on your way to Salisbury steak and some mashed potatoes. I clearly had a lot to learn about food. Somewhere along the way I was at a friend’s house and this is what her mom was serving and I insisted it be on the menu at my house too. My mom was not in favor of this but got one to shut me up.
“Janine, if you don’t eat it all, I’m going to smash it in your face.” That was my mom’s way of insuring she never had to buy one again. She knew that I wouldn’t really like it over her fabulous home cooked meals. Plus, she was playful and my brat brother and cousin were egging her on a bit. I accepted her challenge and felt confident I would show her up.
Half way through all eyes were on me and my instant fake mashed potatoes, and rubbery piece of meat. I felt the heat. The pressure was on and those chicken cutlets, broccoli rabe, and macaroni and cheese they all were scarfing down looked damn good. I being the brat would not be defeated.
I sat in the chair and smiled after every bite. I was a skinny little thing and I was having trouble about a third of the way through. I felt pretty cocky and decided to quit. I was done, finito. It was a TV dinner wrap.
I was sure my mother would not have the guts it took to really smash it in my face. That dinner wasn’t coming near my eyes, mouth, cheeks, and nose. No way. Yes way. Wait a minute, are you serious??? “Moooommmmmm!” Right in the smacker it went! There was fake food in my face. Everyone laughed while I cried. I was shocked, embarrassed, and in disbelief that she really kept her word and followed through with her threat.
Days later this traumatic experience was over and out of my mind. Mom decided to serve up some good food and some bad food, brussel sprouts! Right when I thought it was safe and I was on my way to happy stomach she ruined it again. I did however become a little more creative at finishing my food. My dog, Spike, named by my older brother, of course, became my garbage disposal.
He was a beggar at the dinner table anyway so I figured we would both be doing each other a favor. Every time my parents turned away one brussel sprout was gone. My mom had her suspicions but I think she was feeling bad about the smash in the face incident so she let me slide. She gave her best teeth grinding annoyed parent face and told me to “Knock it off and eat my veggies!” Yeah, yeah mom all done. I actually liked them. Mmmmmmm, mmmmm good I’m gonna grow healthy and strong!
After dinner as we helped her clean the table, I saw a pile of brussel sprouts on the floor. Spike wouldn’t even eat them! How bad must they be when a dog is spitting them out too? I dropped to the floor picked them up and threw them out. My master plan destroyed by a four legged glutton.
Many, many years have gone by since I was served the green balls, but a few days ago I went to dinner at a friend’s house and one of her delicious dishes was made with brussel sprouts. The little green leafed balls of yuck that I once despised were mixed with some tasty pork. There was some pancetta, onions, pine nuts, and rosemary added to the dish. Man, why didn’t my mom think of this twenty-five years ago. It would have been a homerun hit! I left and even asked my friend for the recipe and yes I used it that same week to make my very own.
That dinner flared up memories. I have grown up and without the help of brussel sprouts. Can you believe it? I eat many veggies. I never asked mom to make me a TV dinner again and nor did I ever want one after that day she smashed it in my face. I always ate what was on the table. And, last but certainly not least, I miss my dog. He was a good sport. Brussel sprouts for Spike and no punishment for me. Even though he spit them out he got the green balls off my plate and the parents off my back.
Oh yes, and next time my mother comes for dinner I will be serving the new improved dish of brussel sprouts and if she doesn’t finish it I will be sure to threaten to smash it in her face and follow through with it! Just for old time’s sake. Now, that would be a great way to serve up some nostalgia!
