Category Archives: spitting

On supermarket peaches

Posted on by

I don’t mean to be snarky about this, but supermarkets are experts at presenting perfect fruit for sale that has neither flavor nor juice, which is essentially inedible. So they have perfected the sale of the perfect peach or pear, but since it was picked green, it has no discernable flavor or character. In other words, the pear, peach, or tomato looks perfectly ripe, has no real flaws or damage, but it also has no flavor, other than a sort of woody fibery sensation you get from chewing this fruit. You should spit it out, but you are torn because you did waste your hard-earned money buying it. I mean, who wouldn’t buy a perfect peach? Thing is, however, that because the modern road from orchard to market is so hazardous, the producers pick the fruit green, let it mature in route, and then sell their perfect creations at a nice high price. The consumer gets the short end of the stick because they don’t sample the pretty fruit before they buy it–I mean, who cuts into a peach in the middle of the produce section? I have bought an entire box of strawberries that not only don’t taste like strawberries, they have no discernable taste at all. The peaches are the worst because they look awesome, but they taste like oak. I just ate a pear that was really only the ghost of a pear. I know as a kid we used to buy entire crates of peaches and pears in the summer, and they were juicy and wonderful. You would think that with modern technology, great refrigeration, and fast trucks that this would be possible. At least, you might think that. Nostalgia is a terrible thing. And so is bad fruit.

On supermarket peaches

Posted on by

I don’t mean to be snarky about this, but supermarkets are experts at presenting perfect fruit for sale that has neither flavor nor juice, which is essentially inedible. So they have perfected the sale of the perfect peach or pear, but since it was picked green, it has no discernable flavor or character. In other words, the pear, peach, or tomato looks perfectly ripe, has no real flaws or damage, but it also has no flavor, other than a sort of woody fibery sensation you get from chewing this fruit. You should spit it out, but you are torn because you did waste your hard-earned money buying it. I mean, who wouldn’t buy a perfect peach? Thing is, however, that because the modern road from orchard to market is so hazardous, the producers pick the fruit green, let it mature in route, and then sell their perfect creations at a nice high price. The consumer gets the short end of the stick because they don’t sample the pretty fruit before they buy it–I mean, who cuts into a peach in the middle of the produce section? I have bought an entire box of strawberries that not only don’t taste like strawberries, they have no discernable taste at all. The peaches are the worst because they look awesome, but they taste like oak. I just ate a pear that was really only the ghost of a pear. I know as a kid we used to buy entire crates of peaches and pears in the summer, and they were juicy and wonderful. You would think that with modern technology, great refrigeration, and fast trucks that this would be possible. At least, you might think that. Nostalgia is a terrible thing. And so is bad fruit.

On watermelon seeds

Posted on by

I know why the seeds are there–so we have more watermelon next summer. What is not entirely either clear or purposeful is why genetic biologists want to create a watermelon with seeds that are not seeds. Certainly, seeds make the watermelon more difficult to eat, but they also make the watermelon more interesting to eat because they are the legal thing that one might spit with impunity and not get yelled at by anyone, especially your mom. I find those black tear-drop shaped seeds to be aesthetically pleasing as they dot the ruby-red flesh of a summer watermelon. Watermelon is a metaphor for summer–sweet, juicy, the perfect desert to accompany the sunny heat of August. As a child, I remember eating watermelon in the park with all my fellow summer recreation dropouts and spitting the seeds everywhere. To deprive twelve-year-olds of the pleasure of spitting by inventing a watermelon without seeds is diabolic and heartbreaking, depressing one might say. I mean, creating a genetically useless fruit is the ultimate insult because it eliminates part of the pleasure of eating watermelon. Why is progress measured simply by making things easier when this does not necessarily mean better?

On watermelon seeds

Posted on by

I know why the seeds are there–so we have more watermelon next summer. What is not entirely either clear or purposeful is why genetic biologists want to create a watermelon with seeds that are not seeds. Certainly, seeds make the watermelon more difficult to eat, but they also make the watermelon more interesting to eat because they are the legal thing that one might spit with impunity and not get yelled at by anyone, especially your mom. I find those black tear-drop shaped seeds to be aesthetically pleasing as they dot the ruby-red flesh of a summer watermelon. Watermelon is a metaphor for summer–sweet, juicy, the perfect desert to accompany the sunny heat of August. As a child, I remember eating watermelon in the park with all my fellow summer recreation dropouts and spitting the seeds everywhere. To deprive twelve-year-olds of the pleasure of spitting by inventing a watermelon without seeds is diabolic and heartbreaking, depressing one might say. I mean, creating a genetically useless fruit is the ultimate insult because it eliminates part of the pleasure of eating watermelon. Why is progress measured simply by making things easier when this does not necessarily mean better?