Brussels sprouts – my melancholy memoir

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Brussels sprouts

Brussels sprouts – my melancholy memoir Given that it’s Christmas-tide, it’s time to visit Brussels sprouts. Their incredible history intertwines with mine. On arrival We arrived late one autumn Sunday afternoon after a seemingly interminable journey. As we got out of the car in Potton market square, we were assaulted by a pervasive sulphurous stench. Later, I would come to recognise …

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