Brussel Sprouts a Memory

Moment to moment, stroke by stroke, our lives are painted. Everywhere I go, when I feel clear enough to listen, when not tormented by some past obsession or some future plan, whispers of opportunity roll in and out. With windy fingers, they gently sway the hairs around the ears, moving ever so gently, tickling you with their little voices. Like the tiny feet of a fly they beg for your attention. Distracted by some grand idea, I might run through them, swatting as I go as though they are a nuisance. Sometimes they are. Sometimes, if I take the time to truly examine them, they are jeweled and precious like the discovery of a new friend, or the invention of a new recipe when the original plan was to have toast for dinner.

Brussel sprouts. There, I said it. Brussel sprouts were a dirty word among my generation of the kid's table at family gatherings. The children would sit around the large dark wood table, a chorus of whines filling the antique beauty of my grandparents dining room. Our little fingers defiantly filled up white napkins with the mushy, green, mini cabbage heads, or dropped them into little piles at our swinging feet as though we were innocent little uncoordinated animals. It started with a rumor, the way children are outcast in a school yard. One of our ranks decided they didn't like brussel sprouts, and dislike spread palate to palate around the table like gossip. My grandparents used the traditional method of vegetable preparation characteristic of their generation, cook them until they are pale yellow and then smother them in butter and pepper. They were probably quite delicious, but I wouldn't have known. Actually, cooking long and slow is a technique used for brassica vegetables (members of the cabbage family, like collard greens, broccoli, turnips, and mustard greens) to remove bitterness.

For a brief science lesson, brassica vegetables contain glucosinolates, packaged neatly and isolated from an enzyme myrosinase. When myrosinase meets glucosinolate, through the action of chewing or chopping, products are formed known as isothiocyanates (or "mustard oils") These products tend to be really bitter and children are especially sensitive to them. They may actually have some anti-cancer properties, so it is good that adults tend to develop a taste for them. Cooking brassica vegetables lightly actually speeds up the process of releasing the bitterness, while cooking long slow causes the bitter compounds to cook away and a sweetness to overpower.

Last night I reached into the refrigerator for some quick energy after an amazing run, where I felt like I was easily flying over mountains. My hands hovered over the bread and cheese, then I noticed some brussel sprouts pleading to be appreciated lest they wilt in hopeless apathy. I felt sorry for the little guys, and in my exhaustion I reached down and offered them my attention. As I peeled off the outer layers, they offered me the most brilliant greens and yellows. I felt energized by their color! I sliced them in quarters and soaked them briefly in cool water to begin leaching out some of the bitter compounds. I heated some salt, garlic, and olive oil and added the drained brussel sprouts with a little bit of water. Vapors filled the room, circling my head with inspiration. I reached for some Iranian spice mix that I made last week (crushed rose, cinnamon, cumin and cardamom). I added a sprinkle. I like to eat brussel sprouts while they are still crunchy, so I stopped cooking them after about 15-20 min. (cover them to speed up the process) To disguise the bitterness, I added a dash of red wine vinegar. I added a tsp of butter, for the memories.

A few years ago I was working on a sailboat that was docked in Philadelphia. I remembered from one of her cookbooks that Christina Pirello lived in that city. She was my hero at the time, in my opinion she possesses culinary genius with whole foods. I listened to the opportunity nagging and looked her up in the phone book. I called her and offered her a trip on our boat. She answered. She showed up. She listened to the opportunity to meet new people and have a sailing adventure. She taught me to braise brussel sprouts with balsamic vinegar and fennel. She inspired me to keep cooking and follow my dreams. I am so thankful that we were both open to the opportunities offered to us on that day.