To say my husband is obsessed with sausage is the biggest understatement of the year. It’s his new love, err, on the side — nothing can top nutella, peanut butter, chocolate, or any combination of the three. We’ve had sausages on the grill numerous times since our rounded red bellied Webber was pulled out of hibernation and practically every Sunday we’ve schlepped ourselves less than a mile to the pool house cookie snuggle spoil me grandparents land, also known as his parents. It’s what he wants. All the time. Thankfully there is nothing easier than throwing a few links on a hot grate and calling it lunch.
Our usual sides — a summer salad and buns if wanting to go hot dog style — is getting rather tedious. Yes, I love a summery medley of green beans and tomatoes, pasta caprese, coleslaw, potato salad, and everything in between. But the umpteenth time of eating them in the last three weeks has quickened me to lunch loathing. I mean, I will support my husband in his grilled sausage rampage of 2012 (hey, mine was chocolate chip cookies; we’ve all got our thing). It’s the least I could do after subjecting him to the infamous marriage to Meg (read: me and my girly mood swings) and a chatty, squawking baby.