I have said before that my husband will eat anything I make. He has never been fussy nor opinionated towards what I make for dinner. He may not love everything, but he will still eat it, happily and without unnecessary fanfare.
There is one thing I used to make that he just didn't like.
Back in our Oceanside days I would buy kielbasa and cut it up into coins and brown them in a skillet. Throw them over some white rice. Done. He always wanted his kielbasa in a sandwich. So, I would cut the kielbasa into coins for me and leave a portion intact to cook whole and place inside a bun.
I don't think I have made kielbasa like that in years.
Recently I rediscovered kielbasa when I added it to soups and stews over winter. And, because I don't always like the texture of sausage when it sits too long in soups, I would cook the kielbasa separate and add it to the bowl as I ladeled the soup.
Which meant one night I had leftover kielbasa and as the stars and planets aligned just so, I also had some leftover rice.
I was reunited with kielbasa over rice during lunch.
And now I have a package of kielbasa in my freezer to cook up for lunch another day. Served over rice. One word: Heaven.
Larry says it is too blah for him. I love it. I could overeat kielbasa and make myself sick on it. Of course, I like all kinds of sausage to the point I am throwing up. Like Brats. Oh. Me. Gawd. One word: overindulge. I can overindulge on brats too. I think one day I ate three brats. But only one in a bun, if that counts for anything. What?
I know what you are thinking.
Yes, I did an entire post about kielbasa.