A tale of two sausages

by Katie on December 18, 2014

So, it is well known that my husband refers to some of my on-the-healthy-side behaviors as “hippie”.

Let it be known that this house does not partake in purchasing organic products. We are conventional farmers and know full well that conventional practices are perfectly safe and healthy. I take that back. I have been known to pick up the bag of organic lettuce mix that has the $0.99 manager’s special sticker on it, rather than the $2.99 bag of the same, conventional lettuce mix. But aside from that, we purposefully and intentionally do not buy organic products.

But…I do tend to look for things that are “less processed”. Pretty much the only meat we buy at the store is breakfast meat. The rest of our protein consists of animals we have raised or hunted in the wild, and then processed ourselves. But let me tell you, if you look at the list of ingredients on the package of your standard breakfast sausage, it gets a bit ridiculous. And since we have made our own breakfast sausage in the past, I know those things aren’t necessary.

So, in my search for breakfast sausage with fewer ingredients, I came across a package of chicken and apple sausage one day that fit the bill. “Why not?” I thought, as I tossed it into my cart. However, I knew I couldn’t let Brandon know it was chicken sausage until after he had consumed a reasonable portion of it without complaint. Because if he knew? He would refuse to even taste it. So as soon as I got home from the store, I ripped off the packaging and kind of buried it in the trash can, and placed the plain, shrink-wrapped sausage links into the refrigerator.

The next morning, I diced them up, browned them, then tossed in a few eggs, and Boom. Breakfast. I’ll be honest, I was a bit surprised at how much I liked the chicken sausage. It was not just tolerable, but tasty on my palette. And guess what? Brandon ate breakfast. Without complaint or even mention of our new sausage. Chicken sausage – 1, Brandon – 0.

For literally three months, this pattern continued. I cooked the chicken sausage at least three days a week (I liked to eat a link of it, two eggs and an avocado on the mornings I went to the gym). And Brandon never said a word.

Then, I got a little lazy in my coverup. Last week, I left the chicken sausage in its packaging after the grocery trip.

And guess who happened to actually make his own sandwich that particular day?

My chicken sausage fearing husband.

As you can imagine (if you know him at all), he kind of lost it (in an amusing way, not an angry way) upon discovering the chicken sausage. When I told him he ate it for breakfast that morning? He immediately declared he had not liked his breakfast. (But again, if you know him, you also know he does not eat a meal he is unhappy with without complaint.) And when I told him exactly how long he had been eating it for breakfast? He declared he had hated all breakfasts in that length of time.

And then, he topped off his entire monologue with this:  “If I went to the store, and there was a package of 100% pure American beef sausage sitting next to this [holding up the chicken sausage], I wouldn’t buy it, because it was too close to the chicken sausage.”

And that, y’all, was the day Brandon Leister stopped eating chicken sausage.



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