Confession time: I used to loathe Brussels Sprouts. When I was growing up, I even made up a story to explain the Brussels Sprout. It was, I told myself, a vegetable forced on wartime Europe. I reasoned this lowly member of the cabbage family was so undesirable, it escaped the ration book. What it was doing in post-World War II Canada was beyond all understanding. My attitude towards Brussels Sprouts remained unchanged until only recently. Two things changed my mind. The first was the Brussels Sprouts my cooking pals like Keith and Jeff served recently were not just palatable, they were downright good. And I would likely make a special trip out to the beach to dive into Almond Restaurants' "Brussels Sprouts Two Ways". The second was that when searching for local late season produce, our Hamptons farm stands are positively rife with Brussels Sprouts. Of course, the farm stands have long been closed for the season. But the Brussels Sprouts are green and glorious in the supermarket—even if they hail from much further than Bridgehampton. And when I was doing some research into the Brussels Sprout, I discovered why those Canadian Brussels Sprouts of long ago weren’t at all what I was raving about today.
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