Triumph of (or over) the Brussels sprouts

I don't know whether to declare victory or defeat. Perhaps, I should borrow a phrase from Jon Stewart, and declare the Brussels sprouts experiment a "Mission Accomplicated." Because that's what it was. Those 'sprouts were such a pain in my ass, they took forever to grow, they threw off the design of my neato cold frames, but oh.

oh,

they were so delicious.

((Disclaimer here is that the story of this harvest is slightly used news in that I've been sitting on this post (chewing on this post?) for several weeks now and have not had the time to put cursor to monitor. Forgive and forget, if you please.))

Remember this guy?And the cute little sprouts? (that only toward the end ceased to look like the nipples of a pregnant dog and more like veggies?) Well, on a dark and stormy night, a monster emerged from the shadows wielding sharp blades, a blinding light emanating from it's menacing brow.The monster swung, and hacked, and chopped.But nothing happened.

So the monster handed the terrifying blades to its co-monster, who swung and hacked and chopped.Again, to no avail. With an angry roar, both monsters grabbed the 'sprout and ripped it from the earth intact.

And then they washed it off and scratched their heads at what to do next.OK. Enough with the third-person.

Then we snapped off the leaves and determined that it would not fit in the oven to roast.It was enormous, and we soon discovered that cutting it was impossible.

Except, that is, with a table saw.The stalk of the Brussels sprout is amazing.That ring you see has the texture and density of wood, and no kitchen knife or garden shear could dent it. It's damn impressive.

So impressive, we had to eat it.

But first, I brushed it with some olive oil and garlic,and stuck in in the oven, whole, to roast at 420 degrees for about 10 or 15 minutes.

Sprinkled it with salt, served it on a platter and cut each sprout off with a paring knife.

It's the vegetarian's version of eating meat off the bone.

And it was de-lish.