My family (which loves my cooking, by the way! At least that’s my story…) takes a variety of positions on the rice.
My 17-year-old son eats it vigorously–just as he eats just about anything.
My daughter, the pasta-loving-14-year-old, looks at me with an expression that says, “Really, Daddy?”
My wife simply walks away. I’d rather stave, that move seems to say.
It takes a lot to hurt my feelings, so I am undaunted. I will continue to cook brown rice. I found some great suggestions in The New York Times.
My kids will thank me later. My wife? Well, she wont starve.