In the six years that my husband and I have been together I have made stuffed peppers exactly twice.
The first time was early on in our relationship...well, at least early enough that he dutifully downed his entire pepper, trying not to show his displeasure, before kindly telling me that- while it wasn't my fault- he really didn't like stuffed peppers. At all. Of any kind.
They have been on the "do not make under any circumstances" list ever since.
Until about a week ago, that is.
You see, the yellow bell peppers in my garden are finally ripe. They are HUGE, firm, sweet, lovely, specimens.
I have approximately 5 million of them that I'm working through at the moment- it's all peppers all the time. Good thing he likes fajitas! I said something offhand to my husband along the lines of, "too bad you won't eat stuffed peppers, that would sure help get rid of some of these!"

