Licorice? Yecch-orice!
(I've been in hurried-er I go, behinder I get" mode lately. . .that's by way of explaining this post, which is a leeeeetle bit dated. . .)
On May 29th, 2006, at 9:40 p.m., a blog called “Scribalterror” was visited by a person calling himself “Ana.” Well, maybe it was a person calling HER-self Ana. Anyway, Ana joined a discussion on the blog about licorice, and left the following simple, poignant, heartfelt message: “Licorice. Yuck. Pooey. Gack.”
Ana, of course, spoke for all normal, well-adjusted persons everywhere, all of whom have one thing in common: They despise the taste of licorice.
Or do they?
I only discovered Ana’s lament because I recently learned that April 12th – every April 12th, year in and year out – is “National Licorice Day” in the United States. This clearly demonstrates that somebody, somewhere, is making the stuff, and can't figure out how to stop, and has really big sticky, stockpiles of it that they REALLY need to unload, and so is promoting the holy heck out of it.
The deeper I delve into licorice, the more I realize that people rarely have neutral feelings about it. Here is a small sampling of quotes from friends and family, provided in response to my question “Don’t you just hate licorice? Tell me you agree, or I’ll mock you mercilessly in my column!”:
§ My big sister: “Yecch!” (My big sister is a lawyer, so she added that if I mock her in my column she’ll litigate me mercilessly.)
§ My little sister: “I don’t like it because it makes my teeth stick together.”
§ My big brother: “I can’t stand the stuff. I think it tastes just awful.”
§ My other big brother: “I only eat it when people give it to me at Halloween.” (This proves just how polite my other big brother is; he also chokes down gifts of fruitcake at Christmastime.)
§ No. 1 son: “Tastes like vinegar.” (Oh my poor child! Vinegar-flavored licorice?! He must’ve been forced to eat it during some weird college fraternity ritual.)
§ No. 1 son’s friends, Andy and Graham: “It sucks,” and “Gross,” respectively.
§ No. 2 son: “My tongue thinks it’s nasty.”
§ No. 2 son’s friend A.J.: “I delight in it’s waxy texture and sweet, fruity taste.” (Hey, how’d that one get in here? Oh, yeah, I included it to remind myself to mercilessly mock A.J., and to tell No. 2 that A.J. is no longer welcome in the Stuart Family Circle Of Trust.)
§ No. 2 son’s friend Sarah: “Tastes like carp*.” (*only with the letters slightly rearranged.)
§ My dad: “I don’t like the taste, but I would eat it if there was nothing else around.”
Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have included this quote, since it reveals that dad’s pretty much like me when it comes to nutrition: we don’t dine, or even eat. . .we feed. However, I draw the line at licorice. Rather than eat it, I’d even feed on my dad’s cooking.
Anyway, as you can see, I didn’t hear from anyone (A.J.? Who’s A.J.?) interested in celebrating National Licorice Day, which appears to be the evil spawn of a licorice-producing company called Licorice International.
Trying to divert attention from its role in foisting licorice on the world, Licorice International offers a history of licorice on its website that, naturally, blames it all on foreign persons, particularly the Chinese.
If it’s true that the Chinese invented licorice, I’m torn about how much grief to give them for it. After all, Chinese people have brought a multitude of wunnerful things into the world, including shrimp with snow pea pods and my No. 5 son’s best friend, Sean Chan-Lam.
In fact, Sean is such a cute little fella, I’ll cut the Chinese some slack on the licorice thing. Instead, let’s continue ridiculing Licorice International. They make it especially easy by posting a list of “fun ways to celebrate Licorice Day.” Here are some of the real and actual suggestions on the list:
“3. Jump rope with a long red vine.” I presume licorice used as a jump rope becomes even less edible?
“9. Whip someone with a licorice whip.” I got a tantalizing thrill when I asked my wife about this one; I thought she said “Yessss!” but it turns out she said “Yecch!”
“15. Use it as bait for carp.” I consider this the perfect use for licorice. Except, unfortunately, a fisherman pal tells me it doesn’t work. He said “Even carp think licorice tastes like carp*” (*only with the letters slightly rearranged).
# # #
TakefiveT5@yahoo.com
On May 29th, 2006, at 9:40 p.m., a blog called “Scribalterror” was visited by a person calling himself “Ana.” Well, maybe it was a person calling HER-self Ana. Anyway, Ana joined a discussion on the blog about licorice, and left the following simple, poignant, heartfelt message: “Licorice. Yuck. Pooey. Gack.”
Ana, of course, spoke for all normal, well-adjusted persons everywhere, all of whom have one thing in common: They despise the taste of licorice.
Or do they?
I only discovered Ana’s lament because I recently learned that April 12th – every April 12th, year in and year out – is “National Licorice Day” in the United States. This clearly demonstrates that somebody, somewhere, is making the stuff, and can't figure out how to stop, and has really big sticky, stockpiles of it that they REALLY need to unload, and so is promoting the holy heck out of it.
The deeper I delve into licorice, the more I realize that people rarely have neutral feelings about it. Here is a small sampling of quotes from friends and family, provided in response to my question “Don’t you just hate licorice? Tell me you agree, or I’ll mock you mercilessly in my column!”:
§ My big sister: “Yecch!” (My big sister is a lawyer, so she added that if I mock her in my column she’ll litigate me mercilessly.)
§ My little sister: “I don’t like it because it makes my teeth stick together.”
§ My big brother: “I can’t stand the stuff. I think it tastes just awful.”
§ My other big brother: “I only eat it when people give it to me at Halloween.” (This proves just how polite my other big brother is; he also chokes down gifts of fruitcake at Christmastime.)
§ No. 1 son: “Tastes like vinegar.” (Oh my poor child! Vinegar-flavored licorice?! He must’ve been forced to eat it during some weird college fraternity ritual.)
§ No. 1 son’s friends, Andy and Graham: “It sucks,” and “Gross,” respectively.
§ No. 2 son: “My tongue thinks it’s nasty.”
§ No. 2 son’s friend A.J.: “I delight in it’s waxy texture and sweet, fruity taste.” (Hey, how’d that one get in here? Oh, yeah, I included it to remind myself to mercilessly mock A.J., and to tell No. 2 that A.J. is no longer welcome in the Stuart Family Circle Of Trust.)
§ No. 2 son’s friend Sarah: “Tastes like carp*.” (*only with the letters slightly rearranged.)
§ My dad: “I don’t like the taste, but I would eat it if there was nothing else around.”
Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have included this quote, since it reveals that dad’s pretty much like me when it comes to nutrition: we don’t dine, or even eat. . .we feed. However, I draw the line at licorice. Rather than eat it, I’d even feed on my dad’s cooking.
Anyway, as you can see, I didn’t hear from anyone (A.J.? Who’s A.J.?) interested in celebrating National Licorice Day, which appears to be the evil spawn of a licorice-producing company called Licorice International.
Trying to divert attention from its role in foisting licorice on the world, Licorice International offers a history of licorice on its website that, naturally, blames it all on foreign persons, particularly the Chinese.
If it’s true that the Chinese invented licorice, I’m torn about how much grief to give them for it. After all, Chinese people have brought a multitude of wunnerful things into the world, including shrimp with snow pea pods and my No. 5 son’s best friend, Sean Chan-Lam.
In fact, Sean is such a cute little fella, I’ll cut the Chinese some slack on the licorice thing. Instead, let’s continue ridiculing Licorice International. They make it especially easy by posting a list of “fun ways to celebrate Licorice Day.” Here are some of the real and actual suggestions on the list:
“3. Jump rope with a long red vine.” I presume licorice used as a jump rope becomes even less edible?
“9. Whip someone with a licorice whip.” I got a tantalizing thrill when I asked my wife about this one; I thought she said “Yessss!” but it turns out she said “Yecch!”
“15. Use it as bait for carp.” I consider this the perfect use for licorice. Except, unfortunately, a fisherman pal tells me it doesn’t work. He said “Even carp think licorice tastes like carp*” (*only with the letters slightly rearranged).
# # #
TakefiveT5@yahoo.com
posted by Don Stuart at 11:28 AM
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