I'm going to make stuffed bell peppers for the spouse today.
I'm mostly vegetarian, but you can put bacon bits on my loaded cheese fries and I won't scrape it off.
Back to the bell peppers.
I don't mind the preparation, except for the touching the meat part. See, here's the problem. That stuff is cow flesh. Ground up cow flesh. Have you ever owned a cow? Many years ago, when I lived in The South (this is the only time I'm going to tell you that it's "The South"- don't even question it), we had a herd of cows. Not cattle. Cows. These beasts served no purpose that I could see. They did follow along when I took off into the woods to escape the Evil Aunt whom my darling brother and I depended on for a home. (That's another story.)
Cows are disgusting. They slobber. They can stick their tongues clear up their nostrils. And they do. They don't care where they crap, as long as it's right in your foot path. So really, what's the point of them? I guess it's so I have to wear those thin gloves to handle the meat when I make something using hamburger.
I don't even know what hamburger tastes like. I like Morningstar Farms Grillers. And anyone who eats hamburgers tells me my grillers are nasty.
Because I have to mentally prepare myself for the smell of the ground beef and the cold of said ground beef leaching thru my thin latex gloves.....
Here I go.