Brussels sprouts are the only vegetable I ever really liked. People have always mocked me for this, but apparently now it's cool. The Brusselian Era is upon us at long last, and I, for one, welcome our cruciferous overlords.
After my mother passed away last year, I was tasked with emptying out her house in Los Angeles. I found a wheeled, wrought-iron bar cart bearing funny swizzle sticks, a wooden monkey and four old bottles of whiskey. What now?