My baby-self was delivered by a Dr. Keibler. No wonder I’m a cookie addict. But as we all know: if a food tastes good, it’s bad for you. To me this proves that the universe is a cruel, sadistic joker that gives us taste buds that love sugar and fats, then tells us not to use them. It’s like saying to a man, “You know that appendage you’ve got down there, well, just ignore it.” We’ve been set up for failure ever since God said to Eve, “See that tree over there? Don’t eat from it.”
“But God, apples are the best fruit in the garden.”
“Yeah, I know. But I’m trying something new. I’m calling it will power. Catchy, don’t you think?”
But, if He really cared about our happiness, he’d have said, “Eve, you can have anything in garden. Just don’t eat—the kumquats.”
“Hey, God, no problem.”
And if He really cared, he’d have added, “And don’t touch the kale.”
My current doctor, whom I believe co-authored this cosmic one-liner, just told me to cut out sugar, fats, carbs, cholesterol, and caffeine. My five basic food groups.
“Also,” he said. “You need more vitamin C.”
“Well, that I can do,” I said. “I love oranges.”
“Not oranges,” he said. “Too much sugar. There’s one fruit that has more vitamin C than four oranges.”
“No, don’t tell me—“
“Kumquats,” he said.
“I said don’t tell me. If it’s all the same, I’d rather eat the oranges.”
“Go ahead,” he said. “If you want to be diabetic.”
That buzzkill word is why I planted a kumquat tree, or what I call: The Devil’s fruit. With my first crop, those bright orange ovals just begged to be eaten. So, even without a persuasive snake, I picked one and took a bite.
My teeth literally screamed—or maybe that was me. They are so acidic I felt my tooth enamel eroding. Even my dental implants hurt; though how that’s possible, I don’t know, unless it’s a sympathetic response, like an expectant husband getting morning sickness.
Anyway, since eating them whole was a no-go, I tried peeling them. But removing the skins doesn’t help. Your teeth still want to jump out of your head.
So I tried stewing them, thinking that cooking would bring out their sweetness, only to discover that they don’t have any sweetness.
Next I tried juicing them, which is much harder than it sounds. But their juice makes you pucker so intensely, it’s like swallowing your own cheeks.
Finally I tried chopping them and sprinkling them on cottage cheese, hoping the neutral cottage cheese would counteract the acid. But that combination only made me long for plain cottage cheese. Proof positive that I was losing my mind.
Healthy eating is unhinging me. I dream of the real forbidden fruit: cookies. So what do I do? Follow doctor’s orders and go slowly insane? Or laugh off this great cosmic joke and be unhealthy, but happy?
I think a chocolate chip cookie might help me decide.