I love artichokes. Not necessarily the marinated kind in the jar - even though they are fine in a recipe. But a steamed artichoke dipped in melted garlic butter. Oh my! It may be just an excuse to have melted garlic butter, but whatever.
Recently, Greg and I had a discussion about artichokes. When I say recently I don't mean yesterday or the day before. This was probably weeks ago. Anyway, he's vegetable-reluctant. He doesn't like many of them. Over the years he has broadened his horizons. He agrees that romaine lettuce is better salad material than iceberg. He is almost ok with some asparagus once a year. He loves the broccoli salad that I make but won't touch steamed broccoli with ten foot pole. It's a challenge. I told him he'd probably like artichokes. I described their velvety texture accompanied by a taste that is almost sweet. He gave me that affectionate look that can only say, "You are nuts, woman!"
Last night, I didn't sleep well. I woke up several times. I had many strange dreams. One of the strangest might have been when I dreamed that I sent Greg off to work with a steamed artichoke for breakfast! I gave him a quick tutorial of how to peel off the leaves and scrape the meat with your teeth. No garlicy butter for him though ~ too messy in the truck. When I woke up from that dream I had trouble separating reality from dreamland and was worried that he'd starve for breakfast if he didn't like the artichoke!
Never a dull moment around here, people!
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