I don’t remember when this happened, but it was only a few weeks ago. I had made roasted mushrooms for dinner. My boys hate mushrooms, for who knows what reason. They used to love them, but suddenly they despise them. Anyway, both Derek and I LOOOOOVE mushrooms, so I make them sometimes, sauteed or roasted, with butter and salt and lots of yum.

So I made mushrooms one night a few weeks ago. I had quartered them, seasoned them with salt, pepper and thyme, and roasted them in olive oil. They were vaguely triangular and dark brown. I invited both my boys to try them. Calvin abjectly refused, and Zeeb, ever more adventurous, though still susceptible to peer pressure, eyed them suspiciously, but nevertheless sampled one. As he bit in, he grimaced and shook his little head rapidly.

“Ewww, Yuck! They’re pigs! They’re noses!”

When viewed through the eyes of a 3 year old, perhaps cooked mushrooms do actually resemble pig snouts. But really? Not that much.

If you didn’t get the reference in the title, it’s all about the pig’s feet.

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