Tay-tay came home from the market today with a lovely bunch of wild asparagus. Long, thin stalks of it looking fresh and promising. She grilled them up with a nice lemon-butter sauce, and we split the batch onto two plates and began to eat.
About 2 seconds in, both of our faces soured in pain and disgust. I’m pretty sure grass would’ve tasted better. We laughed and took a picture, though I don’t really know why. She told me to blog about it, so here you go. A post about gross asparagus. I think this is a sign that I seriously need to readjust my self-editing mechanism.
2 comments:
I think Pete's insight was very appropriate-you do realize that it was ASPARAGUS, right?
i agree with pete.
we had an asparagus patch at the farm. one year dad entrusted me with the duties of fertilizing and rototilling the patch. i did my best to fry it with fertilizer and finish the extermination by tilling as deep as humanly possible (by the standards of a 10 year old) yet the patch remained. i'm pretty sure God had asparagus in mind when he cursed the soil after the fall.
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