They’re Cute, But They’re Teeerrrrible.

This is a post about Brussels sprouts. Yeah, now you’re glad you showed up here today.

No one in my family had ever eaten a Brussels sprout. Then this happened…

…and people started tweeting me recipes for absolutely scrumptious ways to cook Brussels sprouts and I decided that I believed these liars friends of mine and I would cook Brussels sprouts!

SPOILER ALERT: Brussels sprouts are disgusting.

Also, it’s annoying to have to capitalize the name of a vegetable every time you use it. I object!

So one day last week, I went to the grocery store and bought a little bucket of Brussels sprouts. I brought them home and showed them to Quinn, who immediately grabbed one and started eating it raw.

I know. I know. He’s a lunatic.

He actually ate the entire thing. I was all, “Hey, Quinn, you know I’m supposed to cook those right?” and he gave me this kind of guilty look like he’d done something wrong and told me that he was sorry and he didn’t know. And frankly, I don’t either. I mean, I’d never heard of anyone eating Brussels sprouts raw before, but honestly, I’d never really heard of anyone eating them before.

I mostly thought they were used to represent adorable little heads of lettuce in dioramas of gardens and as projectiles in food fights because they’re easy to throw. That’s all I’ve used them for—and I’ve never made a diorama of a garden.

Quinn said he only liked them “medium” when they were raw and that he was looking forward to trying them after I cooked them, which I eventually did, using the olive oil, salt and pepper option that so many of you suggested.

Quinn took one look at the cooked Brussels sprouts and said, “They kind of look like boogers.”

He was right.

He tried one, but he wasn’t very happy about it.

He didn’t like them.

Quinn informed me that I had ruined the Brussels sprouts by cooking them. I tasted them too, and at this point in my life, I am pretty sure that no one can ruin a Brussels sprout, because they start out horrible. Never having tasted a raw one, you might think that I am making assumptions, but I had assumed that cooked Brussels sprouts were disgusting and I was right and could have avoided the whole debacle by trusting my insticts, so instead of making that mistake again and actually tasting a raw one, I’m just going to declare that those things are gross across the board.

Obviously, I forced Alex to try one as well. Based on the expression on his face when he first saw the sprouts, I was pretty sure I should have my camera ready.

He did not disappoint.

The sprouts made my adorable husband very, very sad. The fourth photo is my favorite. (This photo montage = one more reason you’re glad you’re not married to me. That’s #836, in case you’re counting.)

Also, here is this awesome photo from a field trip we went on a long time ago when Quinn saw Brussels sprouts on their stem and was completely amazed.


Want something more substantial than Brussels sprouts? Check out the what I wrote about what some members of the autism community had to say about Parents magazine’s lack of autism coverage for Autism Awareness Month.

Also, did you see my post about graphic novels for young/reluctant/autistic readers?

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