Not to put his business out there, but my husband is not a fan of spinach.  Stubborn that I am, though, I try to work it into dishes to “convince” him that maybe, just maybe, there is requited love out there for him and the leafy greens.  You see, I didn’t always adore spinach myself.  When I was in preschool, I once had an abysmal lunch of macaroni and cheese (yum!) with canned spinach (ugh!).  When I refused to eat my spinach, I was told that I couldn’t have any chocolate pudding for dessert.  This was no matter in that I didn’t like chocolate (don’t really love it to this day unless it’s really, really good) – I pitched a fit and refused to eat the vile spinach.  With that, I was whisked off to timeout and my hatred of spinach was sealed.  Until…I decided to study Italian in high school before heading off across the pond for a school trip.  As we learned the different food names in Italian, a group of us made a face at spinaci.  “Oh no!” our professor assured us, “Fresh spinach sauteed with olive oil, garlic, salt and pepper is delicious!  You must try it.”  Try it, I did, and I never looked back – spinach and I were meant to be together.

Fast forward many years later, I found myself tinkering in the kitchen with ways to get Dennis to reconsider spinach.  Aside from a successful batch of Swiss Chard and Sweet Pea Manicotti, the only other winning recipe integrating greens into a palatable dish for the hubs is this cheese pie.  It’s a ramped down spanikopita that is enlivened by a plethora of cheeses – feta, ricotta, cottage and parmesan turn into a lovely filling for crisp and buttery sheets of phyllo dough.  It’s really a remarkable feat how a carefully constructed dish has the potential to make someone reconsider their tastes.  Here’s to training one’s palette to the utmost of discernment.  Oh, and spinach pie – here’s to spinach pie!