Cherries

My whole life I thought I hated cherries. The reason I thought I hated cherries is that I'd only been exposed to maraschino cherries, which I really do hate.

So for almost my entire duration of two years in Portugal, I never ate their local cherries. About a month before it was time for me to leave, my friend Olga orders a bowl of cherries for dessert. She offered me one, and I politely explained that I don't like cherries. She grinned and said, "But have you ever had a Portuguese cherry?"

(One thing I love about culture is that every culture thinks the things they produce is the best version...)

I reached over and tried one (an etiquette rule I'd learned during my two years there) and discovered that I do NOT hate cherries. I like them very much. Probably too much. During that month or so I had left, I ate approximately a pound of cherries a DAY. I ended up having to go to the doctor, suffering from an allergic reaction to the pesticides on the fruit (a common reaction between Americans and Portuguese fruit I discovered...) He told me I'd have to quit eating the cherries or suffer the rash. With only weeks left to eat Portuguese cherries, I figured I could suffer the rash to enjoy the pleasure.

Why do I tell this story now? Because it's cherry season, and a batch has been imported here recently, and yes...I bought a kilo. I don't even know what kind they are...Bing, Ranier, Lapin, Sam, whatever. I just know they're yummy. Somebody please stop me from eating the entire kilo while sitting here working on my computer.