celery

I hate celery. I mean I really hate celery. Raw celery. Cooked to mush and absorbed into other things, like soup, I can overlook. But raw? I will be a petulant small child about it. I will pick it out of my food piece by piece. And if that’s not possible, I just won’t eat it. And I won’t do that with any other food I dislike – I’ll suffer through coconut, I’ll force myself through the texture of eggs, and I’ll even deal with mint which gives me actual migraines. But I will. not. eat. raw. celery.

People who like celery cannot comprehend this – and I’m thinking of one of my relatives in particular. “How can you hate RAW CELERY? It tastes like CRUNCHY NOTHING.” (This went on for no fewer than 20 minutes.) Well obviously it doesn’t if it tastes like the blue-ribbon winner from Satan’s personally cultivated vegetable patch. So why the disparity? What’s with this? How can most of the population think it tastes like crunchy nothing (or maybe slightly salty nothing, according to some), and a bunch of us think it’s the taste to destroy all other tastes?

I think it’s genetic. Like cilantro – does it taste like lemon or soap? Or like lemons – is it bitter or just tart? I’m convinced there’s a gene somewhere that when turned on makes celery taste like a Vegetable of the Apocalypse. And I’m volunteering to be one of those subjects for the genetic study that figures this out, so I can tell all those diabolical celery-lovers that they’re wrong and Nature has gifted me with the ability to see celery for what it really is – evil.

If you’re interested in conducting this study, you know where to find me. …as long as I don’t have to eat the damn stuff.

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