Published on November 26th, 2014 | by Ann Rickard0
Craving a Brussel Sprout … aaagh!
I felt the urge for a brussel sprout come upon me last week.
Now that’s not something you have the chance to often say.
But there it was. A craving for brussel sprouts.
It fell upon me after I visited the super swish Aria Restaurant in Brisbane.
“When I lived in the UK in what now seems a lifetime ago, these humble round green blobs were mandatory eating.”
Gorgeous it was, sitting there at the white-clothed table, waiters dancing attention on me, fluffing out starched napkins, presenting menus, pouring water, bringing around sourdough bread with pleasing rapidity. All this overlooking the lovely Brisbane River.
On the menu, along with the best truffle mash in the universe, was a side dish of brussel sprouts.
Someone at the table ordered them, it didn’t occur to me to do so – and not just because the brussel sprout doesn’t enjoy a good reputation – I was too busy ensuring there would be enough truffle mash for me to have second helpings.
So out came the brussel sprouts, all sexed-up with ginger and shallots and oh my,they were absolutely delicious.
Ever since I haven’t been able to stop thinking of brussel sprouts.
When I lived in the UK in what now seems a lifetime ago, these humble round green blobs were mandatory eating.
As a young newlywed homemaker I used to go to the Saturday markets where the stallholders would sell their brussel sprouts with encouraging shouts of “ollie ollie ollie ollie ollie, come and get your sprouts”.
There always seemed to be tall green mountains of them on every stall. They were sixpence a pound and I used to buy a week’s worth at once and then every night boil the heck out of them until them were pulped beyond recognition, and then smothered them with butter and salt and pepper.
So now, feeling moist-eyed with nostalgia after my brush with the brussel sprout at Aria Restaurant, I had to satisfy my craving and make them at home again.
I bought them frozen, steamed them lovingly and teamed them with a fillet of poached salmon.
Without doubt, the worst meal I’ve ever presented myself.
In my wistful frame of mind, I’d elevated the brussel sprout to celebrity status. I’d quite forgotten the brussel sprout is about as sexy as a choko but with less flavour.