Broccoli - Superfood or Super Gross?

Broccoli is one smelly veggie.

What's worse: an acquaintance mentioning that you have a little something stuck in your teeth (awkward!), or someone NOT warning you about that special green visitor dangling between your incisors? There's nothing like telling that hysterically funny joke, laughing enthusiastically, then excusing yourself to the ladies' room to discover new levels of embarrassment and humiliation. Mortifying? Broccoli.

At a recent event entertaining a team of teenage girl soccer players, the parents thoughtfully provided pizza and sports drinks, and with an attempt at infusing the carb-laden offerings with some healthy additions, a few folks brought a veggie or fruit tray to share. The instant the lid was removed from the veggies, the sweet dispositions of these lovely ladies appeared: "Oh, come ON!!!" "Who did that?" "Geeeez, that is so foul!!!!!" Broccoli.

As any 40-something peri-menopausal woman will tell you, the belly and the bowels are just not as cooperative as they used to be. That little rumble in the stomach during the romantic moment, the look of horror on our faces as we glance in the store window and see our body profile, the battle with our buttons as we swear on our life that these jeans fit JUST YESTERDAY. Want to add some more gas to your body? Broccoli.

My favorite is spending quality time in the kitchen, preparing a lovely meal for my family, a glass of wine within arm's reach, classical music in the background. For me, this is peaceful and satisfying, knowing that I am nourishing my family body and soul, putting my love into every pinch of salt or stirring of the pot. And then they arrive through the back door with, "What's that awful smell? I sure hope it's not dinner!!!" Ha ha. Broccoli.

Sure, it's kind of cute as vegetables go, like a little forest of trees for the Borrower family. But have you ever been faced with purple broccoli? Are you sure that this is its natural coloring, and not a weird strain of penicillin attached to the crown? How about Romanesco? Is that cauliflower, broccoli, or some strange mutation with unknown dietary impacts? Broccoli Rabe? One bite of that bitter weed and it's straight to the garbage disposal for the rest.

OK, so you really can't have your favorite Chinese "Beef with Broccoli" without the little green offender, but do they have to give you so much? Couldn't we squeeze a bit more beef into that container instead of ten extra florets of the mushy malodorous mass? And could they maybe cut the pieces a wee bit smaller, so that I don't have to attempt cutting it with my plastic fork only to send it soaring through the atmosphere like Jane and Michael's kite? It's awfully difficult to look ladylike as I maneuver a two inch cluster into my mouth and then endeavor to masticate without puncturing a hole in my cheek. And of course, this at the precise moment when the waiter arrives to inquire if everything is satisfactory and is there anything else that I need?

I'll admit that broccoli is the "superstar" of veggies with its cancer-fighting properties, vitamin C and dietary fiber. It does looks pretty on the crudite platter. When cooked al dente and accompanied by a little butter, salt and pepper (or a lot, if you are like my family), it really tastes pretty good alongside a chicken breast or a juicy steak and baked potato. While it's not my favorite when I order steamed vegetables in many a restaurant, it sure beats yellow squash in my book.

I am sure I will end up with a crown or two in my grocery cart next time I shop, but it will bring me no joy. I consider broccoli almost a second-class citizen in my snobbish culinary mind, but I convince myself to utilize it to round out the nutritional value of my meals. Oh, but when it comes to those long luscious leeks, tender thin asparagus and burnished baby bellas nestled in the produce displays, now that is a different story. Grilled, sauteed, embellishing a creamy risotto - these veggies have class. No issues, no complaints, no potential embarrassment. I think I just figured out what I am making for dinner tonight, and you can bet my kitchen will smell fantastic.

by Liz Leyh D'Addario