My mom was a proper southern lady.
Like all the southern ladies in her circle she employed a cook and a (gonna be pc here) housekeeper , as she was way too busy with her "clubs" ( Garden Club, Eastern Star, Church (quilting, knitting, embroidery) Bible Study), to cook or clean.
Our cook boiled all the veggies to death (in bacon grease or ham hock "liquor").
I did not even know broccoli existed until a "yankee family" that included a girl my age, moved into the house next door.
We became "besties" and and as such was required to eat dinner there a few times a week.
One nite there was a tree on my plate.
I poked at it with my fork and it appeared to be raw!
The bestie's mom must have noticed my fear (but it was raw! we don't eat raw food unless it is fruit!) and leaned over, cut it into manageable pieces, and covered it with some runny cheese.
Took a bite, and was a huge fan of broccoli (and that mom) from that day forward.
From there it was not so unusual to eat crisp carrot and celery sticks (dipped in a high fat mayo dressing, of course) as well as other veg offerings (braised brussel sprouts are still a fave).
One Thanksgiving my besties whole family came to dinner bearing a dish of green beans (crisp and no doubt delish) garnished with almonds.
Not wanting to embarrass the mom of my friend, our cook snuck the dish back to the kitchen and "finished" the preparation by adding cream of mushroom soup and canned fried onions to garnish.
We sat, we prayed, we watched my dad carve that magnificent bird (had to weigh almost 30 lbs) and passed the sides.
The dish of beans made it to the bestie's mom... she raised her eyebrows, but in true southern lady fashion (when in Rome..), did not utter one word.
Both of our mom's are gone now, but one of our fave memories is of that Thanksgiving meal....