Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Confession: I Secretly Hate Summer Fruit

During the summer, the farmer's market basically gives me an anxiety attack.  There are truckloads of berries and stone fruits, and they are only in season for like a minute and a half.  Because the fruit is so delicious, I am morally obligated to eat as much as I can while the getting is good.  This gives me a false sense of urgency.  Oh my god!  It's here!  Summer fruit!  I have to eat BARRELS of summer fruit OR I HAVE WASTED MY ENTIRE SUMMER!!! (By the way, I remain surprisingly calm during emergencies).

If I don’t buy lots of summer fruit, I feel guilty; so I load up on pluots, peaches and nectarines.  I cart the fruit home, feeling virtuous, and then I don't know what to do.  Should I put the fruit in the fridge?  Or leave it on the counter?  And shit, is this plum already ripe?  Or should I give it a day?  It feels as if there's just a two-hour window for optimal-ripe-but-not-overly-ripeness and that two-hour window always happens during the dead of night. 

And to make matters worse, I always, always, always buy too much summer fruit.  It goes in the produce bin in the bottom of the fridge, and I forget about it.  It ripens, over-ripens, and then languishes for several days until I remember: holy shit, I bought peaches! By then, the fruit is rotten and this makes me feel even more guilty. There are hungry people everywhere, and I can’t bother to eat my peaches.

It’s a vicious cycle: buy summer fruit because I must celebrate the season; forget to eat pricey summer fruit; feel guilty because I am wasteful; buy more expensive fruit that no one will ever eat; and repeat until the end of summer. 

Now that summer is over, I feel relieved.  I can just buy some bananas because JFC, all I want is a banana.  This afternoon, I ate an apple and you know what?  It was amazing.     

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