I don't love broccoli. I don't even like broccoli. At best, I tolerate broccoli.
But I know broccoli is good for me so I try to find ways to eat more of it without feeling like some sort of punishment.
This has been a life-long struggle.
I can vividly remember my paternal grandmother attempting to entice my taste buds with melted Velveeta-topped steamed broccoli. I ate one bite, promptly scraped the cheese sauce off the broccoli and proceeded to sop up the melted cheese with a bit of bread, leaving the naked broccoli on my plate.
I have (and use) her metal steamer basket, the very same one she cooked those broccoli florets in, but I don't use it for broccoli.
I remember reading somewhere that children need to be exposed to new foods a minimum of 10 times before the new flavor is likely to be embraced.
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