I had a phase when I was younger where I would only eat boiled hot dogs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Then I got sick and literally never had one again until this one time at the Philadelphia Zoo during the ‘Freshman Cleanup’ I had to order a few because evidently they only serve meat at the meat parade.
I dabbled between phases and eventually made my way to eating the lemon flesh that dangled haphazardly in my water with ice. I didn’t eat the peel because eating the peel was not even a concept back then. Eating the peel would have only toppled the disbelief in the idea that I actually enjoyed this rather tangy yellow decoration.
I eventually stopped ordering lemons altogether as I learned more about the organics of our agriculture and the restauranteurs’ ways of nipping costs and plating up the cheapest of poisons that exist today—, but not before going through a phase of just ordering it as a literal decoration—letting it only mingle with the glass itself.
And then I stopped drinking water altogether—and holy shit, lemons were highly unnecessary! Today, right now—I enjoy them tons. Like tons, tons. That zest that tickles your tastebuds—that dissipates. What remains is flavor. A flavor we are not accustomed to. A flavor watered down—literally.
It was forty-degrees outside (Fahrenheit), and the water was probably colder than that a few months ago (only mild exaggeration). I’ve regressed to my roots and had a lemon in some water, despite not being thirsty.
Have you ever eaten a lemon?
A whole lemon?