The end of the stones

DSC_0338Summer is experiencing its inevitable death.  The glooming arrival of the new school year grind is almost here.  With this seasonal change comes the end of the stones, stone fruits that is.  Cherries are done for the year, and the last few peaches and nectarines will soon disappear.  But there’s something interesting about these last few stone fruits.  They’re no longer perfect, these last peaches are smaller, a bit wrinkly, they have noticeable blemishes and most of all, their flavor is not what it was a month ago.  And so chefs across the land are beginning to rethink their menus.  No longer perfect, peaches are not a turn-on anymore and our wandering eyes and palates are switching to figs (the hot new item).

And I can’t help but compare the similarities between peaches and relationships.  It’s easy to find takers when we are in season, when our skin is perfect and we have no blemishes.  But as soon as that changes, and we get past our prime, we are pushed aside for the hot new item.  This is something that’s done to us and something we do to others as well.  No one is free of fault or immune to this process, and the seasonal availability for a relationship can last from a week to many years.

So what is wrong with a slightly over ripe peach, what is wrong with a few blemishes, why are we so driven to find the perfect partner and bolt the minute we realize the one we have, is not the ideal fruit?  One of the easiest ways to deal with a blemish on a peach, is to either bite it, or cut it off.  As much as we’d like to sometimes, we obviously can’t rip off limbs from a blemished partner.  But there is one thing we can do.  We can make marmalade, we can take that non perfect peach, and put some time, patience, heat and energy and create a delectable spread to sweeten up our life.  Is this easy to do?  Of course not, as I write this I’m thinking about the last beautifully imperfect peach I let go off not too long ago.  You kind of have to know what you are doing in order to make marmalade, but if you are willing to learn how and you invest your energy into it, you would never know the peach was blemished to begin with.

Chefs love dating multiple sisters.

There’s something about dating multiple sisters, it brings a lot of flavor into my life, it keeps me young and full of desire.  The first one I dated was Blanca, round and curvy, but very intense, oh my she is spicy.  She was my first and she often had me in tears, but I have very fond memories of her.  Nowadays I only get together with her occasionally, it’s usually only when my mother has her over for dinner that I’ll have a secret rendez vous with her.  Blanca is one of fraternal triplets.  Morada was the second sister I dated.  I hook up with her very often, I love how colorful and vibrant she can be.  She’s incredible, in the most sour of situations she shines the brightest.  She’s my grandmother’s favorite, she loves it when Morada comes over for a visit.  The last of the triplets is Gialla, she’s the more submissive of the three.  I didn’t meet her until a few years ago, but now, if I don’t dip into her flavorful body 5 or 6 days out of the week I start to feel lonely.  She’s what you would call, my steady girl.

Aside from the triplets, there are a few other sisters, and they all fulfill a certain something inside and outside of me.  Kele, she’s the tallest of the girls, I love her body.  The only problem is, she’s the dirtiest of them all, and not in the good way.  She’s always muddy as she loves being out in the garden.  Before I put my mouth on her, I pretty much have to rinse her off every time.  But once I clean her up, she’ll let me do whatever I want with her.  There’s also Charllot, her body is petite, but she is the most interesting and sophisticated of them all.  She can be very sharp or very sweet with me.  It just depends on how I treat her, truthfully, I like nibbling her no matter what mood she’s in.  There’s a couple other sisters in the family, and I like how they taste, but they are too skinny, not enough curves to slap and hang onto.

Some of my Buddhist friends don’t approve of the girls, they say they don’t dare touch them, the feelings of desire they provoke are too distracting.  I respect their point of view, but the girls, with all their layers, full fill every one of my desires.

People ask me on a weekly basis, how do I know which one of them I should use for what dish?  My response always is: the onions sisters are amazing.  They are interchangeable in most situations, but they all know how to do bring something different to the table.