I don't know exactly what happened, but one day I committed to Mark that I would try gizzards. I wanted him to do something, and he said he would do it if the next time he made gizzards, I would try them. I don't recall what the "something" was, but I must have wanted it done really badly, because I agreed! So, that's how I got roped into trying gizzards.
Well, the day arrived that Mark decided to make himself a gizzard treat. Oh crud. I was committed. He got them ready in his pressure cooker ... that's how he cooks them ... and, I must admit, things actually looked promising. He puts fresh rosemary, bacon, onion, and jalepenos in with them. "The pot" actually looked kind of pretty.
|Getting the gizzard pot ready - it doesn't look sooooooo bad.|
After a short bit, the gizzards were ready. It was time. I could avoid it no longer.
|Ummmm ... not looking quite so appetizing now.|
So, I put my big-girl pants on and cut myself off a bite. Just a bite - let's not get crazy here! Well, my suspicions were confirmed - I absolutely don't like gizzards. And now I have every right to say it.