The Bane of Bell Peppers

{look at them just sittin' there. all innocent like. pfft.}

Yesterday, I made dinner.

Sort of.

I decided what I wanted to have for dinner, got all the ingredients together, started cooking… And then my dad decided I was taking too long, so he stepped in and helped with everything. I don’t know whether to sigh because I didn’t get to do it myself or be thankful because dinner didn’t take two hours to put together.

I think I’ll do both.

All this to say: I really dislike bell peppers.

Yes, this is indeed a post about the ickiness that is bell peppers. Of any color. Ew.

I’m sure everyone has at least one food item that just makes them cringe a bit. I’m not saying I won’t eat bell peppers; I’m just not the biggest fan of the things.

Why?

A few years ago, my mother went on this kick where she added bell peppers to absolutely everything. Not only are bell peppers good for adding color to a dish, but they’re nutritious and she kind of liked them. I had been neutral up to this point about the veggies—they hadn’t shown up in my dinner all that often before so I didn’t really care one way or another. After a few months of the things making an appearance in almost every single meal I ate, I had definitely formed an opinion.

So when my dad tossed in some frozen bell peppers into the pasta sauce yesterday… *sigh* I was sad. However, because of all the other wonderful goodness I’d chosen for the sauce, I can’t actually taste them! *yay*

But I know they’re there. *suspicious glance into the pot* Waiting for me. Lurking. Just biding their time. Sneaky things.

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What food makes you shiver a little? Any adventurous eaters out there who will eat anything at least once? You’re brave, my friend, very brave. I applaud you.