It's Not Easy Being Green

I have a bag of spinach in the fridge. I actually used it in dinner tonight. And I only cooked for myself. Stranger things have happened, but not many.

Yesterday, as usual, I was thinking about dinner (I usually start thinking about dinner when I wake up, I don't really like breakfast and lunch is easy). I was browsing the Williams-Sonoma website for recipes and found one for a type of ravioli that looked great, it had garlic, veal, and rosemary in a brown butter sauce. I showed Alejandro, and he thought it looked good too, "Spinach," he proclaimed reading the ingredients, "garlic, rosemary..." Wait. I didn't notice the spinach. Hmmm.

I had a dilemma. I had already agreed to cook it for us (Carlitos is somewhere near the Wadden Sea this week), so I couldn't just leave out the spinach. So I bought the smallest bag possible, which was a mammoth 300g. I made the filling. We went running. Somewhere during the run Ale decided to cancel on dinner to watch a futbol match (which was fine with me since I was exhausted from the run) so I went home to make dinner for myself. And I voluntarily ate something that I prepared with spinach in it.

Many people may not think that is a big deal, but I am one of the pickiest eaters around. My general mantra was that I won't even touch it if it is green (the exception was mint chocolate chip ice cream). I'm slowly changing my ways, for I have since expanded to pesto, spring onions, absinthe, and green curry. But spinach? I fear my family will have a heart attack when they read this...