Battle of the Bulge: My New Candy Store

For some time now I have been really aware of vegetables. Thanks to Dr. Fuhrman, I've realized that I was consuming too many grains (albeit whole wheat) and could definitely benefit from the nutrition and scant calories available in the veggie world. 

I sauté, roast, soup, and raw; I feel satisfied, light, not remotely deprived. With just olive oil, black pepper, (a dash of) salt, and garlic powder, any vegetable becomes yummylicious.

Stopping into the fruit store I frequent one evening to load up on more oranges, I was surprised to notice that suddenly, I felt giddy with desire. 

Hubba, hubba.

Zucchinis, gleaming an alluring green; the seductive, sensual shape of the butternut squash; leafy cabbage, peeking appealingly; fiery oranges and yellows of the pepper; regally purple eggplant; alabaster cauliflower, that had unthinkably replaced my potato-love; onions, that make life worth living; the come-hither scent of the parsnips; mushrooms, that earthy fungi with irreplaceable flavor; carrots, demure in their sturdy skin that concealed an untapped sweetness, yearning to be released.  

I blinked confusedly; I shook my head a little. But the candyland image remained, the lighting no longer harsh but caressing and warm on the produce beneath. 

I grabbed a basket and dazedly poked and prodded a few root vegetables; I just couldn't leave empty-handed. At home I sliced, seasoned, then roasted, moaning appreciatively over the (in all seriousness) candy-like flavor of the carrots and parsnips. 

I had completely forgotten the fruit store has an actual candy section.

OK, I know some of you will probably think I was high, but here is simple science: processed foods have an overabundance of sugar and salt which tampers with the palate. Remove the troublemakers, and soon real flavors (occasionally heightened with small amounts of sweet and salty) become appreciated.