The Broccoli Bomb
I sat at my desk last Sunday afternoon doing paper work while my wife fixed lunch. My desk is located about as far away from the kitchen as you can get in our home but even so I can occasionally tell what’s cooking as she works her magic. Nothing like the smell of roast beef sneaking up the stairs to tantalize my taste buds! And the closer I move towards that kitchen the more powerful the magnetic aromas become. The kitchen, and the Wonderful Chef who makes it run, draw me like a moth to the porch light.
Last Sunday I inhaled and suddenly captured a whiff then a mouthful of noxious fumes. Was the newly installed toilet allowing gas to escape into the living space? Had a critter crawled into the closet and died? I jumped up to investigate and worked my way down the hallway as the fumes grew stronger with each step I took toward the kitchen. My wife was happily standing in the kitchen, oblivious to the chemical weaponry that was invading our home. My sense of smell is acute while hers is not as sensitive – must be why she can live with me?
I asked the obvious question, “What’s that smell?” And my wife replied with her more obvious answer accompanied by her beautiful smile, “Lunch!” I asked what was being cooked and the answer was broccoli. OK, that is one dish that usually has an odor wafting around the domicile while it simmers but Sunday’s batch had to be some kind of experimental weapon. My eyes watered, I gasped for breath, and had to use my inhaler just to have enough oxygen to get the windows open. It took hours, half a can of air freshener and the lighting of many candles before I could exit the house and re-enter without gagging.
And that experience was nothing compared to the time my Mom cooked pickled corn or the weekend my Grandma decided it was time to boil up the poke greens and ramps. Some foods clean you out and you don’t even have to chew and swallow.
I hope your week is good!