radishes

Radishes are croutons.

During childhood, I endlessly watched the chapters of Faerie Tale Theatre, hosted by Shelley Duvall. I would sit on the living room floor absorbing the sights and sounds of each story: the sound of the goblets clinking against the plates during "The Princess Who Never Laughed," the over-sized, golden turkey leg the King (of many different stories) was always gnawing at, the crackling chomp of the deep-red apple as Snow White took the bite of gloom and doom. I sat, engrossed in the tales, watching and listening. When it came to sensing food, the auditory senses dramatically dominated over the visual. The deep, full-bodied sound of the King chewing the turkey leg while taking large swigs of wine as the turkey was still in his mouth, became a more powerful memory than the color and texture of the glistening thigh.

Food was important. VERY important.

I loved to eat croutons. Not just any croutons, but Reese's Seasoned Croutons. I would sit in front of the television eating croutons from the bag and watching Faerie Tale Theater. In one of the stories,"Rapunzel," a pregnant wife longed for the radishes from the witch's garden. Her husband snuck into the garden and returned with the mystical radishes, which happened to be blue. The wife was delighted and took a bite of the first radish. This made the most satisfying, hollow crunch. I sat, enamored with this sound. I knew, by the sound, that it must be delicious. I opened the bag of croutons and popped one into my mouth. It made the same crunch! It made the same sound! I knew, from that moment, that radishes were croutons.

This, I later found out, was NOT the case. Radishes were bitter and were not at all the seasoned and flavorful morsels that croutons were. However, I continued to watch and re-watch "Rapunzel," while eating croutons. Ever since then, radishes=croutons.

Radishes were just the beginning (or perhaps a symptom) of my greater infatuation for food. This blog will be an exploration of one of my greatest loves.