I smashed my finger tonight while loading the dishwasher. It was one of those genius-brand of smashings - the kind where I didn't actually drop anything on it, but instead I caught it between the pegs on the rack of the dishwasher. Catching it "alarmed" me, and then I yanked backward on the rack, causing my finger to become fully smashed within the pegs. Yow, the pain! I do this on a regular basis with grocery carts, but this is the first time I've injured myself in the dishwasher.
It's hours later, and my nailbed is still completely white and throbbing. I'm such a klutz.
I made canned spinach tonight as a side for dinner (meatloaf, corn-on-the-cob). Now, as a child, my Granny made me eat spinach in the summers I lived at her house, and I hated
it. (She insisted I drink buttermilk too, but that stopped after I later puked it all over the inside of the car on a hot, Texas afternoon. She also made me eat chunks of avocado - clearly, she was trying to kill me.) I don't remember my mom ever making canned spinach, so I'm going to assume that she must not have liked it, either. Granny's version of canned spinach was very sour - drained, vinegar added, and topped with a bit of salt at serving. I would gag and gag and gag, and I honestly don't recall how I ever got enough of it down to even leave the table.
(Lest you think my Granny only made disgusting food, I assure you that's not the case. For example, she made the best homemade biscuits and chocolate gravy that you would ever, ever have melt on your tongue... but you had to finish your spinach first!)
And so it doesn't make a lot of sense, I'm sure, that I would try serving a vegetable that I detest to my own family. However, even though there are things I don't like, I figure my boys deserve the chance to try new foods. We eat so many, many things, but spinach is something they've only ever had fresh in salads. Recently, I served brussel sprouts alongside a meal, hoping to like them more as an adult (these were a regular favorite of my mom's, and I never
came to like them growing up, either). We all cleaned our plates, but I learned the brussel sprouts were definitely not a taste I had "acquired" over time. Even as we ate, we all four discussed how terrible-tasting the sprouts were, discussing how I would never make them again. (But hey, at least the boys tried them, ate them, and then made a decision on them for themselves, right?)
While we'd been looking forward to the meatloaf on the meal plan, there had been much trepidation in talks of the upcoming spinach. I decided to make it differently, hoping to veer from the sour taste. When I dumped the two cans of spinach (actual Popeye® brand!) into the pot, A.J. and I looked over it, uncertainty clear on our faces. Philip walked by and sniffed the pot, declaring, "There's just no way that can be good, honey." I worried, but I soldiered on. I boiled the spinach, then drained it well. I added a bit of butter and a shake of garlic powder. Finally, I served it up.
The rule in our house is, "Eat the things you don't like first." It just saves time, really. Even as I put the plates of food in front of the boys, I reminded them that they should try and eat the spinach first, as it probably wouldn't be their favorite thing. To my surprise, they GOBBLED IT UP
. I took a bite... not bad at all! Even Philip didn't mind the spinach. Success!
In the end, I'm glad I gave it a try, for I certainly never would have guessed the outcome. Brussel sprouts will remain a zero in our book, though. *wink*