“I can resist anything except temptation.”– Oscar Wilde
“I can resist anything except green bean casserole.”– Jeff Brown
“Where’s the cauliflower?” I asked my wife, scooting around a corner with our cart.
“It’s in the fruits and vegetables section.”
We were at the grocery store the day before Thanksgiving. Vickie and I were entrusted to prepare the broccoli and cauliflower cheesy dish. This was all fine with me, but I had mixed feelings about our mission. In years past, I was in charge of the beloved green-bean casserole. (A.K.A. Food of the Gods.) This year somebody else was baking it (I hoped) and we were entering uncharted territory with a vegetable I had little experience with.
“What kind of cauliflower are we looking for, Vick?” My mind kicked into full smart alec mode and I gestured toward the cauliflower display. “Let’s see, we have natural cauliflower, low calorie cauliflower, sugar free cauliflower, gluten free cauliflower, classic cauliflower, new improved cauliflower, caramel cauliflower, and my all-time favorite: movie theater butter cauliflower.”
Vickie picked through the heads. “Here’s organic cauliflower for $2.94 and white cauliflower for $2.18.” She picked up a green head. “This one is $2.99.”
Interesting fact: Four out of five people who enjoy cauliflower recommend organic cauliflower to their friends who eat cauliflower.
“We’re getting the white stuff,” she said as she put one of the oddly shaped vegetables in our cart.
“Wait, Vick.” I said in the most concerned tone I could muster, “Is this free-range cauliflower? I won’t buy any vegetable, especially a brainy one like cauliflower, unless it’s been treated humanely.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I think it’s important the heads were allowed to roam the farm freely, unencumbered by fences.”
“I don’t know, Jeff.”
Another interesting fact: Whenever Vickie uses my first name in a sentence, I know I’m getting on her nerves.
I wondered where cauliflower comes from. Trees? Cauliflower bushes? An old familiar tune popped into my head…
Let me take you down, ‘cause I’m going to Cauliflower Fields
Nothing is real and nothing to get hung about.
Except they look like cerebrums, I thought, as I maneuvered into the checkout line.
On Thanksgiving morning, I chopped up the broccoli and threw it in a pot of water. Then I was ready to perform the lobotomy. I rinsed the brain off in the sink and set it on a cutting board. I glanced at Vick who was busy making deviled eggs. “I’m ready to make my first incision.”
She shook her head.
“I’ll start by completely removing the frontal lobe,” I explained. Then I chopped. “Wow that felt really satisfying. I think I’ll chop some more.” Chop, chop, chop…
“Hey, Vick.”
“Yes, Jeff.”
“Do you know whose brain this is?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s Abby…someone. Abby Normal.”
She shook her head.
“Bwa-ha-ha-ha.”
Pretty soon the broccoli and cauliflower were steamed to perfection. I dumped it all in the crock-pot and Vick added her cheese sauce. It looked and smelled pretty good.
A couple hours later we were at my sister’s house for the big meal. As I loaded up my plate, I took some of the broccoli and cauliflower. Everyone else did too. Our dish was such a hit I’m thinking about taking on more responsibility next year. Heck, maybe I’ll even prepare the turkey.
As long as it’s a free-range one.