I bought and prepared a small (though not small enough) head of cabbage for the Labor Day meal. The cabbage was at the daughter’s request, but as it turns out due to her drugged out state she didn’t eat that much that day or the days immediately following.
I don’t care for cabbage. I don’t hate cabbage but it certainly is not among my top 10 veggie likes. Son apparently is not a big fan either. Though he ate a healthy portion that day he didn’t take any home. He did, however, clear us out of spaghetti and apple pie.
Yesterday, we finally finished the Labor Day cabbage, re-heating a little for dinner (and even once for lunch Saturday).
My mom stopped over on Sunday. She brought me a container of almost done cabbage and 2 ears of corn (frozen).
On Monday she called wanting to know if I wanted more cabbage. It seems the large head she bought at the farmer’s market keeps getting . . . bigger.
No. More. Cabbage. I respectfully declined the offer of more cabbage.
Then, “well, what about Brussels sprouts?”
The previously delivered almost done cabbage was resting in the freezer.
I respectfully declined the Brussels sprouts offer.