General Discussion

given in to the anti-social peer-pressure to consume a Brussel sprout.

Many years ago, thinking he was funny in a cruel manner, my younger son told his wife that I love pickled beets. Thus, she brought me a large jar of them. My paternal grandfather (1879 - 1957) believed there was a connection between one of his friends consuming massive quantities of pickled beets one day, and dying the next. Thus, he warned others not to consume them.

My father maintained this spiritual superstition, and had a healthy aversion that verged upon fear of pickled beets. Hence my mother kept several jars of them, decades old, just to upset him in the time of what is known as an "Irish catholic divorce." I assume they dated back, at very least, to 1957.

I grow beets every year for my son, daughter-in-law, and grandson. Yet I will not risk tempting fate by consuming so much as a bite of a raw one.