There is no truer judge of flavor than a full stomach.
Last night I roasted zucchini with a thin smear of white miso and a drizzle of sesame oil, in a hot oven unitl the miso browned a bit. My timing was a little off, so it came out of the oven after we’d finished the rest of our dinner. It looked like this:
Not bad, eh?
I like roasted green beans with miso and ginger, and I’ve been thinking miso-lemon sauce would be tasty on broccoli. But last night’s experiment was a total flop (which, if you remember the rules, does count).
I took one bite and pushed my plate to the side. My husband ate his whole zucchini half, chewing thoughtfully between bites. I thought he might actually like it, and I was beginning to lose faith in his palate entirely, until he turned to me, and with an expression of utmost concern, said “Jess. This tastes like moldy zucchini.”
But I don’t think anything was actually bad, except the basic flavor. This is all I ate:
We’ll count that as a failure.