Thursday, August 08, 2019

Crispy water

I do not understand iceberg lettuce. I bought one for the first time on Monday of the week and now, in the reflective calm of a Thursday evening, I have decided to bin it. What the hell is it? It's like crispy water, texture but no taste. When I took it out of the veg section of the fridge, it was sitting in a  pool of water. Do they eventually dissolve if you leave them long enough?
Well, having bought it, my canny Salopian upbringing dictated that I should eat it. It's weird. You cannot peel off a whole leaf, it disintegrates into small soggy pieces if you try. By Wednesday I had grown to hate it. I shredded it, thinking I could put in salads, but even the shredded pieces started to melt. By lunchtime today, I made the awful decision that it had to go. If only I had a pet rabbit, I thought, and then realised it would need to be a thirsty pet rabbit.
So, it is no more, it's an ex-lettuce, it has shuffled off its damp mortal coil, it has gorn to join the choir invisibule, no doubt whistling the theme from Handel's Water Music. It is defunct.
Bloody thing. 

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