Eating Up the Kale

[dropcap2 variation=”teal”]K[/dropcap2]ale. What is it about this green leaf that now seems to be everywhere. On the blogs I read, in magazine recipes, even coming from the mouth of my 2-year-old kid, who just asked my husband if she could eat the winterbror variety I’m growing in the ecobox.

I like kale. Two years ago, I had never tried it. Then I discovered that sauteeing dinosaur kale (which looks like a reptile’s hide) with garlic for a few minutes made a yummy, easy vegetable side dish. Call me a convert.

However, there seems to be a contingent of people who think kale is, well, terrible. They dismiss kale the way I used to hate brussel sprouts, before I had ever eaten one that was not overcooked. My husband hates sweet potatoes in the same manner. His grandmother used to torture his grandfather by making food taste bad. One of her specialties was sweet potato casserole with extra marshmallows, not done in a good way. He refuses to try a yam or sweet potato to this day.

Which lead me to thinking about how sometimes what you like or don’t like is in the preparation. And that lead me to thinking about giving things a chance, even when we’re sure we won’t like it. Which lead me to thinking about the books I missed out on because I didn’t think I’d like them. Or because they were “good” for me. Like broccoli. Not so fond of broccoli.

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I often skip over certain titles when looking for a book to read because they contain elements I have seen work less well in other books. Like angels and fairies. Not fond of angel books or fairy books. Then I read Cassandra Clare’s City of Bones.. Another well-prepared meal.

Of course if after the first bite or sentence, the dish/book is bad, I still feel free to spit it out. Or return it to the library. Or just stop reading.

I guess all that I’m saying is give kale a chance.