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As a kid, I HATED green peppers! Every once in a horrifying while, my mother would make us STUFFED GREEN PEPPERS – a meal celebrating that reviled vegetable. She was kind enough to let my brothers and me skip the offending container if we finished what was inside it – ground beef/rice/tomato sauce, which was actually pretty good. The empty pepper would be pushed as far to the edge of the plate as we could get it. Bleh!

Tastes change. I eat raw fish now. Love asparagus. ¬†Onions rule! And I kind of like green peppers*. Of late, I’ve been experiencing a craving for those stuffed peppers, partially fueled by this year’s great crop of them in our garden. I called Mom, got the recipe, and made some up. Not bad! Betsy liked it, too, but…. didn’t eat the pepper. Who am I to blame her?

*Still won’t eat liver.

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